We Sort Too Soon: The Life of Severus Snape
by onoM
Summary: Love is not love which alters when it alteration finds, or bends with the remover to remove: it is an ever-fixed mark that looks on tempests and is never shaken; it is the star to every wandering bark, whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.
1. Focus

Chapter Zero

* * *

_Is It My Eyes, or Is It the World that's Out Of Focus? Will This Life Stay Blurry Forever?_

* * *

The waning sunlight stretched its fingers across our dining room table as I finally finished translating my grid of runes. I stretched my aching back and slid the grid over to my mother for grading.

It had turned out to be a small protective ward for a dwelling—centered on the 'Ur' rune—intended to keep people with malicious intent from crossing the threshold of the ward, but using an inverted anchor at Cardinal North. Hardly a difficult ward, but runes were never very difficult anyway; they only ever took time and patience.

Pick a rune, look it up, write it down, cross-reference with others nearby—rote memorization at its worst. I hated runes; there was no artistry in it. It was like math... static and colorless and dull. Integers and graphs and grids and mindless equations, and two and two making four...always four.

_I'd much rather be brewing something. Or poking my eyeballs out with this quill. Something fun like that._

"That's five for five in ancient runes, Severus. Next week we'll be moving on to arithmancy and transfiguration, with special focus on Gamp's law. Well done, my little Valerian." My mother always finished my lessons with that, to my unending dismay.

Valerians were pale, leafy plants that grew where something had died. They thrived in darkness, taking nourishment from the cold, moist decay of carbon-based organisms, such as deer, rabbits or even humans. If the sun ever shined upon a valerian it would dry out, wilt and die.

They were most efficacious when picked at twilight. The leaves could be mashed to make a mild topical anesthetic or tinctured to thin the blood and relieve pain. The roots were used in several potent sleeping draughts.

Due to my obsessive fascination with potions and the dark arts—and in no small part because of how pale and reedy I was—that was how my mother referred to me: as a weed that fed only on death and grew only in the darkest of places.

"Thank you, Mother," I said quietly, shuffling off to wash my hands and make myself scarce.

With luck, I could spend a full hour in the Prince family library before supper. I didn't particularly care for _Spellman's Syllabary_ or _Numerology and Grammatica_, but there were at least one hundred sordid tomes that I wanted to crack open, with titles like _Magick Moste Evile_ and _Confronting the Faceless_ and _Moste Potente Potions_; thousands of dusty, yellowed pages, waiting still and silent for me to uncover their secrets.

I made my way down the hall to the library and shut the door behind me, flipping on the electric wall sconce and stepping over to the bookshelves. It was the closest place to a sanctuary I had in this prison; I was the only one who cared to spend more than a few minutes at a time in here.

I'd been homeschooled since age three; my mother was intent on providing me a balanced wizarding education before shipping me off to Hogwarts. She always praised my capacity for learning, insisting that few children could keep up with such a rigorous course load.

I didn't particularly care about a balanced wizarding education; I only studied most of those tiresome subjects to please my mother and appease my father. My parents expected certain things from me, after all. Many things.

I was expected to study quietly, eat quietly, sleep quietly and always show deference to my parents. I was not to look my father in the eye, and I was not to linger in his presence any longer than necessary. I was to complete every assignment my mother set before me, and I was only to go outside on Saturdays, assuming all my coursework for the week had been finished.

I did everything that was expected of me, but it lacked excitement—it lacked _life_.

I wasn't to leave the house, but I'd gotten around that well enough by sewing one of my pairs of jeans to an old smock and stuffing the cavity full of leaves. If I propped it up against the far side of the dimly-lit library, it was a passable imitation of me. At least for the occasional glance, which was all I'd ever been spared on a Saturday.

That meant I was free to wander about on my own. My parents didn't know where I was going—or even that I was gone—and as long as I returned by nightfall with all the hair and fingers I'd left with in the morning, they wouldn't say a word.

My favorite thing to do on Saturday was sneak away from our house on Spinner's End, away from Cradley Heath with its ugly, dirty river and its cobbled streets and vandal-haunted homes, broken windows boarded over with thin plywood sheets. Away from fish and chips wrapped in the latest _Black Country Bugle. _The further I wandered, the easier it was to pretend I didn't belong there.

I hated my muggle neighborhood and its mundane, bigoted inhabitants—like my father. I hated the insipid children around me, only consumed with trivialities like their next meal, or what new toy they would harass their parents for. I hated the old foundry with its single huge chimney that dominated the skyline. I hated that my parents cloistered me; they feared more than anything that some casual slip would reveal us to be more than just another blue-collar family.

I hated that my mother fell for a man like my father—almost as much as she hated herself for the very same. She spoke of it once to me: how she'd been young and foolish when she fell in love, and now that she was old and sentimental, she couldn't bear to leave him. Her implacable love for my father, a second-rate abuser and a first-rate drunk, was her weakness; the dirty blood running through my veins was a daily reminder of that.

I hated that my father was always so dissatisfied with me. He cared nothing for my magical aptitude, nothing for my gifts—he only wanted a son that was tall, proud and strong; my mother had failed to give him an heir he could be proud of.

Never muggle enough for my father, never magical enough for my mother. I was nothing but a shameful souvenir of their love, eating and sleeping and breathing beside them.

It had been years since she confessed that to me, but I would remember it forever.

So I sat against the wall of the library under the sconce, tucked my feet under me, opened _The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts_ to my well-worn bookmark and did my best to ignore the shouting down the hallway.

I would never forget her weakness.

* * *

That was my life until a Saturday like any other; sneaking out of the house, following the warm summer breeze and letting my feet take me somewhere else.

I wasn't quite sure what I was looking for anymore, if I had ever known at all...I just knew that there had to be something more to this hazy reality. From the leaves on the trees to the fingers of my outstretched hand, it all seemed so indistinct. Everything was so blurred around the edges; soft and dull and diffused...

What was I supposed to focus on? What on earth was I looking for?

I would find my answer on a Saturday like any other, and later reassure myself that I'd known all along.

I'd headed West that day, following the A4100.

It was nothing more than a chance encounter; I was passing Lomie Town park and spotted a new girl at the playground with her sister, swinging over the asphalt. As my eyes landed on the pair, the redheaded girl launched herself off of her swing at the height of its arc and flew through the air with a great shout of laughter, staying up far too long and landing as gracefully as a leaf in the wind. Her hair flashed brilliantly in the sunlight.

It impressed me indelibly—I'd never seen anyone so transparently magical. Nothing I'd ever observed could compare to this new, intensely fascinating creature. Such a casual display of purposeful magic, wandless and in plain sight...it would've enraged my parents. She was fearless.

I wanted to meet her.

The problem was in my approach. I couldn't just walk up and start chatting; I had no idea who she was or what she'd think of me. And I very much wanted her first impression of me to be good. I wasn't sure why I cared so much what she thought, whoever she was, but it didn't stop me from caring, all the same.

I had hurried away before they could spot me in my smock, which looked quite ridiculous all of a sudden. I wished I had clothes that I wasn't ashamed of wearing, but I had no choice in the matter. I had only hand-me-downs—my jeans were my father's and my mother had cut them for my height three years ago, so they were far shorter on me than was respectable and the too-wide waist was held up with a long, floppy leather belt. My jacket was my father's also, and he'd simply told me to grow into it.

I'd thought hard about the best way to reveal myself to her, but nothing came to mind. Social interaction was a mystery to me; my parents were too concerned about what would happen if the muggles found out about our wizarding blood.

I knew that children usually associated with others of their age and class, but I had no idea who these two children were. The redheaded one looked to be my age, but the other was at least a few years older. They both looked well-cared-for, so I assumed they lived further West in nearby Brierley Hill.

I visited the playground many times in the following weeks, just watching the two of them. Petunia, the older sister, was thoroughly muggle. The younger one, who had flown through the air the day I first saw her, was named Lily.

Even her name was fascinating to me: _Lily._ Sometimes I caught myself saying her name for no reason at all, simply because I liked the way my mouth and tongue moved as they shaped the sounds.

_Lily._

It became blatantly obvious, after several weeks of casual observation, that neither she nor her sister had any idea how she was doing these strange things. She was muggleborn. She knew nothing of the Wizarding World, nothing of her birthright. I _had_ to meet her, now; I wanted to be the one to introduce her to the world she would soon be a part of.

I would tell her everything she'd always wondered, and perhaps I'd be welcomed to join them on the swings. Maybe she'd even want to be my friend...I knew I was poor and dirty, but that didn't have to matter so much. I just had to present myself in the proper light.

I was still trying to figure out how to present myself when my opportunity arrived, unfortunately.

I had been hiding behind my usual cover—an expansive Sweet Briar bush—watching them on the swings as she launched herself skyward again. Her sister complained, as she usually did, but I ignored her and I hoped Lily would as well. She performed amazing feats so casually, simply for the joy of doing something that violated the laws of nature. I never grew tired of watching her.

She made her way over to the bush I was hiding behind, and my heart nearly stopped beating as she bent down to pick up a rose blossom that had fallen from my bush. "Tuney, look at this," she said cheerfully, "Watch what I can do."

Petunia glanced around nervously before approaching. I could see her face twist as Lily made the flower bloom and close like some bizarre, pink, many-lipped oyster.

"Stop it!" she shrieked.

"It's not hurting you," Lily said, tossing the blossom back to the asphalt.

"It's not right," Petunia muttered, following the flower's path back to the ground and lingering there. "How do you do it?" her voice was quiet and insistent.

_This is it!_ I tried to swallow the nervous lump in my throat as I clenched my fists tightly. _I know how she does it, this is my opening!_

"Isn't it obvious?" I asked her, jumping out from behind my bush.

Petunia shrieked and ran for the cover of the swings, but Lily, though clearly startled, stood her ground. I felt her eyes on me and turned to meet them, and everything around me shifted on its axis.

I felt the most alarming unsteadiness for an instant—like a magnet being pulled from rest to meet its opposite—but with that tilt, the entire world clicked into place.

I'd never seen anything so clearly in my life as Lily Evans's eyes. Every detail of her was in sharp contrast, like she had snapped my world into focus. In the span of a blink the earth had exploded in colors and smells that had surely not been there even a moment earlier. A scent like sweet apples overwhelmed me, and the sunlight was suddenly too harsh to bear.

I felt so overwhelmed at the unexpected rush of information that my head spun. I forgot where the ground was, I forgot to breathe, and I even forgot my name for one long, lingering moment.

Her eyes were green. Not muddy green or hazel green, but the brilliant kind found in a grassy field after the rain, or stained glass in sunlight. My hastily planned words drifted away on the wind as I gawked at Lily's eyes. The color was so intense, it was almost painful...

I curled my shoulders inward self-consciously, deeply regretting my ill-fitted clothes and the flush of heat that was rising on my cheeks. At least I'd worn my father's jacket; it helped to hide my smock from her view. I'd never felt more vulnerable and embarrassed in my life, but I couldn't tear my eyes away from her.

"What's obvious?" Lily asked, oblivious to the fact that the earth had just tilted around us.

Her words shook me from my stupor, reminding me who I was and why I was standing here instead of cowering behind my usual bush. I glanced over at her sister, grateful that she'd retreated to the swings. This was the moment I'd been hoping for. I licked my lips nervously and whispered, "I know what you are."

"What do you mean?"

"You're...you're a witch," I breathed reverently.

"_That's_ not a very nice thing to say to somebody!" she huffed, sticking her nose in the air and marching off toward her sister.

"No!" I blurted out, chasing after her. For reasons I didn't fully understand, the thought of her being cross with me twisted something inside me. It felt like I'd been hit in the chest with something hard.

I finally caught up with her at the swings, next to her sister. _That didn't come out right...I need to make it come out right..._

"You _are_," I insisted. "You _are_ a witch. I've been watching you for a while. But there's nothing wrong with that. My mum's one, and I'm a wizard." I searched her eyes for any flicker of acceptance, hoping that she'd understand this time.

_You're magical...you're just like me...so please..._

"Wizard!" Petunia shrieked, stepping closer and sneering down her nose at me. "_I_ know who _you_ are. You're that Snape boy!" She turned to her sister and added, "They live down Spinner's End by the river."

I felt something prickly and hot folding over inside of me at her words, her tone. I'd never felt anything so uncomfortable in my entire life. A sharp pinch behind my eyes made me wince.

_Is this shame?_

"Why have you been spying on us?" I heard Petunia ask. Her voice was shrill and cutting.

"Haven't been spying," I shot back defensively, searching for something that would hurt her like she'd just hurt me. "Wouldn't spy on _you_, anyway..._you're_ a muggle."

I didn't expect her to understand the word, but I certainly hoped she understood the tone. _You think you're so superior, do you? How dare you talk down to me!_

"Lily, come on, we're leaving!" Petunia snapped, turning on her heel and heading for the playground gate.

I felt my anger vanish like smoke in the wind as Lily glared at me, replaced by that heavy, sweltering pressure in the pit of my stomach. I flinched at the heat in her glower, feeling another sharp twist in my chest.

And then she was gone.

I felt my knees crash against the warm asphalt as I gasped for breath, staring at down at my clenched fists in utter, maddening confusion. _What just happened? What did I do wrong?_

_That did not go as I had imagined_, I thought bitterly. My heart tried to compress ten years worth of beating into the next few minutes as I choked back my disappointment.

_That wasn't supposed to be so...painful. I don't understand girls at all!_

By the time I set off again toward Spinner's End, however, my heart had shrunk back down to its normal size and slowed mostly back to normal. My enthusiasm had not shrunk with it.

Despite the confusing sensations tearing into me, despite the pain, despite not having any clue how to find Lily again or what I'd say when I found her...I knew just from glancing around that I'd done something right.

I could see my outstretched fingers, count the leaves on the trees and smell the sun-baked pavement beneath me. For the first time, I looked forward to greeting another day—I'd finally come alive.

I wasn't born until a Saturday like any other, on the asphalt playground at Lomie Town park; I was nine years, five months old at the time.

Next Saturday, I'd go searching for Lily again.


	2. Need

Chapter One

_Whatever You Need, I Can Become...So Please, Need Something Heroic._

_Make no mistake—when facing the Dark Arts, courage is as necessary and vital to the wizard as his own magic. Intention is key: there is no victory gained without it._

_If the wizard studies his enemy diligently, if he is prepared for every foreseeable eventuality, and if he possesses the boundless courage to stand before the faceless unknown, then he will triumph against insurmountable odds._

_There have been champions of every color, creed and purpose; men and women from every walk of life who conquered the impossible. The annals of history are filled with timeless characters that are as varied as the flowers of the field._

_Without exception, two traits have been shared by every hero throughout time: that they dared greatly, and that they were remembered._

"_Confronting the Faceless", page 18._

As I reread my favorite excerpt from _Confronting the Faceless_, I found myself wishing that I could be more like that—more like a hero. But how?

What was that critical element that made me a coward, terrified of his mother's stern voice and his father's fists? Or was I lacking some trait that allowed me to stand up and fight the faceless unknown? I wanted to be filled with that boundless courage, and willing to go to any lengths to conquer the impossible.

I wanted to be so brave and heroic that the Ministry of Magic would have no choice but to award me the Order of Merlin, First Class. Then I would show my medal to Lily, and maybe she'd play on the swings with me after that.

I wasn't sure what was supposed to happen next, but I knew that if I could only be brave enough, everything else would fall into place. I just needed to find the proper spell or potion that could turn me into a hero...

_I wonder what Lily is doing right now._

The more I thought about her, the more I liked thinking about her. Imagining what her life must be like on the other side of the river, imagining the next time I'd find her—I would speak more clearly, and I'd tell her all sorts of things that she'd never known before, and then she'd be impressed with me. Maybe she'd even want to be my friend, and not glare at me so angrily.

Having completed my schoolwork early yet again, I'd taken to spending every free moment in the family library, searching for more powerful spells and potions and trying to find a clear answer on how to become a hero.

Many of the potions and spells I'd found were far too complex for me. It'd take years to gather up the proper materials, assuming I could even accomplish the brewing. Every time I found a potential answer, it seemed even more impossible than the last.

I hoped I'd find the answer before I found Lily again; I didn't want her to glare at me the next time we met. If I showed her my new Order of Merlin, First Class, then she wouldn't be cross with me, right?

But if I found her again before I figured out what made a hero, then that was okay, too. Even if she grew cross with me, it wouldn't be wasted; when I'd seen those bottle-green eyes, everything finally started to make sense. Maybe if I looked at them long enough, I'd figure out how to be a hero?

I heard a knock echo down the hallway, and wondered for a heartbeat if I had remembered to gather up my coursework—nobody ever came into the house, but my parents took every precaution against a muggle stumbling in and discovering my nonmuggle curriculum.

Eileen cracked open the door to the library, and my eyebrows raised at her hawklike glare. "There's someone here to see you, Severus," she whispered tightly.

My heart hiccupped inside my chest. Nobody ever came round, nobody even _knew_ me—except—I didn't dare to hope—

I stumbled down the hall and rounded the corner, terror and excitement warring for dominance. Excitement won out as I saw Lily Evans standing at my doorstep. I didn't have to go looking for her now, because _she_ came to find _me_. The thought pleased me immensely.

She looked nervous and confused, trying to glance everywhere at once. I glanced down, confirming with mounting apprehension that I was indeed wearing the same smock I'd worn on Saturday. Just as dirty and unkempt as I always was.

Terror swallowed the fragile excitement of Lily's visit as I heard a disgruntled cough from the recliner behind me; I had finally remembered why I wanted so badly to go find her somewhere else—because from here, she could see my life.

I hadn't wanted her to see my loathsome parents, or my tiny, dingy house. I hadn't wanted her to see the outdoor toilet we shared with our neighbors, the shoddy state of every house on our street.

Her spotless, well-ironed blouse and her untroubled face, they didn't fit in here. People like her didn't belong in such run-down houses. It felt like she was intruding on something indecent, and it shamed me.

I'd never been more conspicuously aware of how squalid my life was until this moment.

This wasn't what I wanted. I wanted Lily to be impressed with me, so I had been planning to tell her about the wizarding world and leave out the rest. That way, maybe she'd just imagine that I was some rich pureblood who was graciously taking time out of his busy schedule to tutor a muggleborn.

I didn't want her to know that I was a poor, dirty halfblood with no fortune or nobility, only offensive parents and ill-fitting clothes.

_Not this. Anything but this._

There was no hope of disguising the truth now, and I felt diminished by it. I couldn't bring myself to look up at her, to face her like this, so I turned to my mother's footsteps. Eileen's curious, frightened gaze told me everything; they knew I'd been sneaking out.

I didn't have to look at my father—I could feel the heat of his gaze on the side of my face. I would be severely punished for this.

Stepping to the door, I forced myself not to stare at my feet. I settled for staring at her chin. "What d'you want?" I asked quietly, hoping she would just get it over with and get out of here before my parents made a scene. There was no chance they'd let me talk to her alone, so they were going to find out soon enough what I'd done.

"I want to know more about magic," Lily startled at my mother's horrified gasp, but continued resolutely, "I want to know more about what I am—about what's happening to me."

This was a conversation I'd been dearly looking forward to having, but our audience completely changed the emotions running through me. I resented my parents all the more for it, and searched frantically for words that would keep this situation from getting more out of hand.

Lily used my silence to speak to my mother, of all things. "This is a really nice, um...place," she finished, turning red under Mother's conspicuously hostile glare.

"Pity that Severus doesn't agree, isn't it?" Mrs. Snape replied thinly.

Lily's brow knit in confusion.

I whispered hastily, "I'll be at the playground we first met. This Saturday. We'll talk then, but you've got to go now, okay? I've got to study."

She smiled brightly, nodded and ran back down the street. Back to civilization.

I was glad she left in such a hurry. I would have to beg quickly, and this would give me more time. I'd spent much of my life bowed, hunched over to avoid my punishments. It was cowardly, but pain made a coward of me.

As I opened my mouth to start pleading, however, all I could think of was Lily's retreating figure. What if she turned around now, what if she heard what I was about to say?

She'd already seen that I wasn't rich or famous or noble, she'd already seen the dirty, run-down house I lived in. Surely my cowardice was among the least of my faults.

For reasons I didn't fully understand, I wanted to keep this one thing hidden from her—the last shameful part of myself that remained secret. For if she knew I was a coward, then how could I convince her that I would be a hero someday?

No. Even more than the shame I felt at knowing she had seen my wretched life, I couldn't allow her to see me a coward. Not ever.

When she looked at me, I wanted her to see someone strong and smart and impressive. I wanted her to see a hero. I wanted to _be_ a hero.

If only I could discover the critical component that made people look at someone and see a hero. Whatever it was, I wanted it.

It was irrational, of course, but as I shut my mouth I knew that I would rather be beaten than be a coward for one more day.

_Fine. I snuck out and met Lily—I told her she was a witch. I told them I was a wizard and mum's a witch. I'm not sorry, and I'll sneak out to see her again before long, just so I can tell her more about all the things you never wanted me to talk about._

_Beat me all you want, but you'll never hear me beg again; I need to be better than that, to hide the last of my shame._

I shut the door slowly and turned, my mother's worried face shaking frantically, and then my father was out of his chair, stomping toward me with that fierce look on his face, and then his shadow fell over me.

I lifted my chin and clenched my teeth, struggling to keep my balance while my legs fluttered like leaves in a gale.

_Come on, then, Tobias. Let's have it.

* * *

_

After the impressive beating that Tobias had served me, I had been locked in my room every night and banned from the library for a month. And of course, I was forbidden to see Lily on Saturday.

I'd picked my lock with a coat-hanger and snuck out at three in the morning, just in case they had planned to wake up early and watch me, and waited anxiously at the playground swings for Lily to show.

It was half-past eleven when she finally appeared, red-faced and breathless. She bent over her knees to catch her breath as she gasped, "I had to sneak out. Petunia said I shouldn't come. Petunia said you're creepy."

"But you came," I offered, ignoring the tight sting in my chest. I'd been growing increasingly nervous as the sun rose higher.

She nodded, straightening up. "I hope you didn't wait long."

I smiled at those bottle-green eyes, feeling my anxiousness melting away, "I just got here."

"What happened to your face? It's all purple..." She lifted her hand as if to touch my bruises, but retracted it quickly.

"Oh, my mother told me that if I was set on coming today, she was going to put makeup on me." I'd been trying to think of a proper excuse for the past three hours. This was hardly proper, but it was the best I could come up with—I didn't have any stairs to fall down, or any siblings to blame.

I hoped she wouldn't make a meal of it. I was new at this 'not being a coward' business, so I wasn't very confident.

"She's not very good, is she? Maybe next time she'll let me put it on you, instead? Sometimes Petunia lets me put it on her, I can do it a lot better than that..." She peered at the blotchy blue-purple that colored the left half of my face. I'd never been more thankful for my smock; it kept her from wondering why 'makeup' was spread over most of my chest, stomach and arms.

"I'm a bloke, you know...you're not supposed to put makeup on me," I felt my face growing hot as she leaned closer to inspect my bruises.

She smiled at me, "I'm glad you're not in trouble. Your parents looked angry, I thought they'd ground you."

"I'm here, aren't I?"

Lily nodded happily.

I felt my face heat as I stammered out, "Would...you like to play on the swings with me?"

She responded by sitting on the next swing over. Just like that, I was playing on the swings with someone! And I hadn't even needed an Order of Merlin to do it! I quickly learned that swings were infinitely better in twos—I couldn't keep the smile off my face as our creaky chains swung in tandem.

As a token of my thanks, I cleared my throat and opened her eyes to the wizarding world and Hogwarts, which would become our home in a few short years.

I also learned that I liked watching her hang on my every word. I liked knowing that those clear green eyes didn't see anything except me, knowing that what I had to say was vitally important to someone else. It made me feel like I was vitally important, too.

I rolled over on the leaves in our small thicket of trees, lacing my hands behind my head and staring up at the canopy above me. I came here because I could see the river glittering through the trunks to the east, and the shadows cast by the trees made a basin of cool green shade. It was an oasis on blisteringly hot summer days, such as this one.

Once again, I was waiting for Lily on Saturday. We always met on Saturdays, and I had begun looking forward to them with relish. I never knew when she would show up, always coming as early as possible so I didn't miss her. The anticipation of our conversations was nearly as enjoyable as the conversations themselves; I rarely anticipated anything pleasant, after all.

It had been months since I'd met her on the playground, and my parents had stopped locking me in my room at night. I always managed to sneak out, no matter how badly Tobias beat me for it. The muggles hadn't showed up with pitchforks and torches yet, so they started letting it alone.

The first time I came home from seeing Lily and my father stayed in his recliner, I very nearly laughed at the thrill that buoyed my heart. That must have been what 'victory' felt like.

The leaves behind me rustled, and I sat up and smiled as Lily sat in front of me, crossing her legs and leaning forward in anticipation. Today I was going to tell her about the Ministry of Magic, I'd been researching all the statutes and regulations she'd need to know about.

As I explained, I couldn't help but puff my chest out a bit. I always felt so important when she looked at me, like I was the only thing she was paying attention to. I'd never been treated so significantly; it was thoroughly addictive.

"...and the Ministry can punish you if you do magic outside school, you get letters."

"But I _have_ done magic outside school!" Lily's eyes widened.

"We're all right. We haven't got wands yet. They let you off when you're a kid and you can't help it. But once you're eleven," I nodded importantly, "and they start training you, then you've got to go careful."

There was a little silence. Lily picked up a fallen twig and twirled it in the air like a wand. Then she dropped the twig and leaned in toward me again. "It _is_ real, isn't it? It's not a joke? Petunia says you're lying to me. Petunia says there isn't a Hogwarts. It _is_ real, isn't it?" I could see the lines of worry that were creasing her forehead.

"It's real for us," I said, "not for her. But we'll get the letter, you and me."

"Really?" Lily whispered.

"Definitely," I reassured her, brimful of confidence in our destinies.

"And will it really come by owl?" she asked.

"Normally," I allowed, "but you're Muggle-born, so someone from the school will have to come and explain to your parents."

"Does it make a difference, being Muggle-born?"

I hesitated, my eyes moving over her. I'd been force-fed my mother's ideology from birth—that Muggle-borns were mudbloods and thieves of magic, that they shouldn't be allowed wands or training—and I'd always blindly gone along with her. It had never been worth a fight.

But now, sitting in front of this Muggle-born who was so instinctively magical, I couldn't blindly agree with my mother anymore. I'd been taught to hate, but how could I hate someone as captivating as Lily?

Blood be damned.

If hating Muggle-borns meant hating Lily Evans, then I'd rather boil my head then believe my mother's foolishness.

"No," I said. "It doesn't make any difference."

I'd made a right mess of things shortly after that, dropping a branch on her insufferable sister's shoulder, and felt utterly frustrated as she stormed away from me again. It seemed like all I could do was make her glare at me.

For the next week, I'd fought a growing pit of anxiety in my stomach. I was nearly sick with worry, wondering what I'd done wrong and how to make sure I never made that mistake again.

If Lily disappeared now...I wasn't sure how I would cope with the loss. In just a few short months, she'd become the highlight of my entire life. The only times I felt real were when she was looking at me. How could I go back to being invisible, to searching aimlessly for meaning again?

But sure enough, she was waiting for me in the thicket next Saturday. I had been afraid to show up, afraid to know if I'd pushed her away for good. But the relief that flooded through me when I saw her dark red hair shining in the patched sunlight filtering through the canopy of leaves, leaving me weightless with relief.

I sat down beside her, strangely reluctant to meet her eyes, and whispered, "You came back."

"Of course I came back," she agreed. "We're friends, and friends forgive each other!" She smiled at me supportively.

I smiled as we stared out over the thicket, watching the dirty river go by, and talked about how amazing Hogwarts was going to be. We talked of Slytherin house and broomsticks and the wood that wands were made of, and everything felt right for another day.

The night before I left for Hogwarts, I was too anxious to sleep. So I tugged on my jacket and followed the familiar path down the A4100 to Lomie Town park—my birthplace, as far as I was concerned. I sat on my favorite swing, pushing myself quietly. The ever-present scent of the Sweet Briar bushes comforted me.

I hadn't seen Lily at Diagon Alley, thankfully. I had told her that my parents already bought me my equipment and books, just to avoid the horrid possibility of our parents meeting. Her parents wouldn't be nearly as accepting of me as Lily was, and I didn't want them to tell her to stay away from me.

I always thought ahead, always planned for the future. It was part of my cautious nature, and I was unusually proud of it.

And yet tonight, I couldn't help but curse my lack of foresight, because tomorrow, everything would change. Everything that we'd spoken of, everything we'd been looking forward to, it would all come to pass—and it terrified me.

I'd no longer be the only wizard she knew. She wouldn't need me to explain anything anymore.

I felt such despair at that thought. What would happen when she got to Hogwarts and realized that there were loads of wizards who weren't dirty and poor, that there were wizards with money and power and pure, undiluted wizarding blood? What if she left me all alone? It twisted my chest painfully.

Once we got to Hogwarts I would just be another first year. I wouldn't be the center of Lily's attention any more. I never thought it would cross my mind, but I didn't want to go to Hogwarts anymore...I wanted to stay here with Lily, where I could keep her all to myself. What would I do when those almond-shaped eyes weren't looking at me anymore?

"Sev?" I heard a quiet voice over the stillness—a voice I'd recognize anywhere. Her red hair glowed like a bronze crown in the reflected incandescence of the nearby street lamp.

"Lily? What are you doing out here?"

"I'm..." she sat on the swing next to mine and kicked herself into motion, the chain creaking halfheartedly. "I'm scared," she admitted.

My eyes widened. I wondered if she was half as terrified as I was. "What are you scared of?"

She stared down at her knees, pushing herself again and again until I thought she must not have heard my question, and then she answered, "I'm scared of Hogwarts."

I felt a thrill of excitement stir in me, and quelled it ruthlessly.

"I mean, I'm supposed to be happy, right?" she muttered, still staring at her pale knees. "But all I can think about is how I'm not going to see my parents for months—I'm not going to see Tuney for months! They're my family, I've never been away from them for more than a night, and now...now they're going to disappear, and I'm going to be all alone in this huge, scary castle...I don't want to go!"

I was on my feet and standing next to her before I realized I'd been moving. "You don't need to worry, then," I said, smiling down at her in relief. I had been so afraid that she was going to leave me alone that I'd forgotten that she didn't know anyone at Hogwarts, either. She was afraid of leaving her parents behind, and I was afraid of being left behind at Hogwarts. We weren't that dissimilar, after all.

"We'll learn loads of spells, and you've got so much potential—you'll be a brilliant witch. I'll make sure of it."

She snorted, kicking her swing again, "Potential, is it...I've never met another wizard or witch before, what if they're all big and mean? What if they don't like me?"

I felt myself swelling with relief and a deeper, unnamed emotion. "They'd be mad not to like you. Don't worry, okay? I won't let you go it alone, Lily—I'll always be right by your side. I'll protect you, no matter what."

"You promise, Sev?" she'd stopped swinging now, staring up at me with the widest, most vulnerable eyes I'd ever seen.

I saw the need in her, and it empowered me. If it was what Lily required, how could I not be that? How could anyone see the need in Lily now and deny her?

It didn't matter if there was a real live dragon waiting for us at the gates; I could be brave when I needed to be—and now I would need to be brave for Lily.

_Maybe that's what it means to be a hero?_

I puffed out my thin, bony chest as far as it would go. I wouldn't let _anything_ hurt Lily Evans. I resolutely declared, "It's a promise!" and stuck my pinky out to her.

She bit her lip, nodding as we shook pinkies on it.

A shiver rolled up my spine at the contact with her cold hand, and she giggled, "It's a promise, then." My worries had vanished like the morning dew, and I felt dizzy with the gravity of it.

To me, our entwined pinkies were every bit as binding as an Unbreakable Vow. _I promise you, Lily; nothing but Death will ever separate us._

I wouldn't be cast aside at Hogwarts. Lily would still need me. Lily would still be my friend.

I floated home, weightless with relief and anticipation.

* * *

I'd changed into my school robes before the Express had even begun to move, impatient to abandon my dreadful Muggle clothes, but had lost track of Lily in the process. So I hurried down the train corridor as it clattered through the countryside, anxiously checking each for my friend.

I had been eager to change, eager to embrace the robes that marked me a wizard like any other. But in my haste, I'd left my only friend to scavenge for a seat alone. If I abandoned her so easily, then how was I to keep my promise? I would have to be more mindful of her in the future.

At last I stopped, outside a compartment in which a group of rowdy boys were talking. Lily was hunched in a corner seat beside the window, her face pressed against the windowpane. I felt my chest unclench as I saw an open seat across from her.

I slid open the compartment door and sat down opposite my friend. She glanced at me and then looked back out of the window. Her eyes were puffy and red from crying.

"I don't want to talk to you," she said in a constricted voice.

I swallowed the familiar sting at her harsh words, having caused them far too often to be surprised. "Why not?"

"Tuney h-hates me. Because we saw that letter from Dumbledore."

I remembered the event, having sneaked through Petunia's room looking for something that would embarrass her. I hadn't known that Muggles could write to Hogwarts. Imagine, a wretched little Muggle like Petunia knowing something about the wizarding world that I didn't...

"So what?" I couldn't understand why Lily was so insistent on treating her terrible sister so fondly.

"So she's my sister!"

The heat in her glare made me wince, but my frustration was mounting. "She's only a—" I caught myself quickly; Lily, too busy trying to wipe her eyes without being noticed, didn't hear me. I knew enough about my friend to know that pointing out the obvious would only enflame her temper.

"But we're going!" I said, unable to suppress the exhilaration in my voice. "This is it! We're off to Hogwarts!"

She nodded, mopping her eyes, but in spite of herself, she half smiled.

"You'd better be in Slytherin," I said, encouraged that she had brightened a little.

"Slytherin?"

One of the boys sharing the compartment, who'd shown no interest in either of us until that point, looked around at the word. His black hair was messy and windswept, as if he'd been flying all day. "Who wants to be in Slytherin? I think I'd leave, wouldn't you?" he asked the boy lounging on the seats opposite him.

"My whole family have been in Slytherin," he replied.

"Blimey," said the first boy, "and I thought you seemed all right!"

The other boy grinned, "Maybe I'll break the tradition. Where are you heading, if you've got the choice?"

The first boy lifted an invisible sword. "'Gryffindor, where dwell the brave at heart!' Like my dad."

I gagged a bit. _Gryffindor?_

The boy turned on me. "Got a problem with that?"

"No," I said, sneering at his idiocy. "If you'd rather be brawny than brainy—"

"Where're you hoping to go, seeing as you're neither?" interjected the other boy.

The first boy, who I was already beginning to hate, roared with laughter. I wondered what my redheaded friend was thinking, and felt a tight, heavy pit form in my stomach. Would she be ashamed of me now?

Lily sat up, rather flushed, and glared at both boys in dislike. "Come on, Severus, let's find another compartment," she said loftily.

"Oooooo..." the boys called as she marched toward the corridor.

I felt my heart leap as I hurried after her. She hadn't defended me, but she'd clearly proved that she wouldn't abandon me at the first turn. My chest swelled with warmth.

The first boy tried to trip me as I passed.

"See ya, Snivellus!" a voice called, as I slammed the compartment door behind me. I couldn't disguise the smile stretched across my face, even as Lily whirled on me.

"How could those boys say such a rotten thing about you, Sev? And why on earth are you smiling?"

I just shook my head and smiled wider, unwilling to find the proper words.

She huffed and spun around again, stomping down the corridor to find a new compartment for us.

Hogwarts was looking better every minute.

* * *

The Sorting hat fascinated me. Who first imagined an enchanted cap with the power to distill our destinies? Who had the audacity to dream up something so ridiculous?

Family ties, friendships, aspirations, all were irrelevant. A floppy, threadbare _hat_ chose our house, and we had no choice but to obey. It would determine the course of the next seven years of our lives, and perhaps the rest of our lives afterward.

Our Transfiguration professor, Minerva McGonagall, called out the first name from a scroll of parchment, "Black, Sirius!" The older students watched from their bare, candlelit House tables, ready for the feast to come.

The name Black was very familiar to me. They were an incredibly ancient family, wizards who could trace their blood back to the time of the founders.

I recognized him as one of the boys from the Hogwarts Express as he walked to the three-legged stool at the front of the hall, and immediately hoped that he would not be sorted into Slytherin with Lily and me. Ancient pureblooded family or no, the boy was as much of a dolt as his messy-haired friend.

Professor McGonagall dropped the hat onto his head, and within a few seconds the hat cried, "_Gryffindor!_"

Recalling what he said on the Hogwarts Express, about his whole family having been Slytherin, it only affirmed the power of the Sorting hat. It had gone against tradition, against a thousand years of wizarding blood and power, and dashed it all to pieces with a single word. His family would be livid.

_I'm glad he got his wish; sharing a dormitory with him for the next seven years would've been abysmal._

For a heartbeat, I felt almost jealous of the power of that floppy, threadbare hat.

My entire body was aching with nervousness by the time the professor called, "Evans, Lily!"

I watched her walk forward on trembling legs and sit down upon the rickety stool.

_Please, let her be in Slytherin. Please, let her be in Slytherin..._

Lucius Malfoy smiled thinly at me, nodded his aristocratic head once. He was not going to coddle me, he would not be considerate, but he would protect me. He could protect Lily, too. We would be safe in Slytherin; we would grow to be the greatest Slytherins the school had ever seen!

Professor McGonagall dropped the Sorting hat onto her head, and barely a second after it had touched the dark red hair, the hat cried, "_Gryffindor!_"

I let out a tiny groan, my eyes trailing Lily's unmistakable hair as she handed the hat back to Professor McGonagall, then hurried toward the cheering Gryffindors. She glanced back at me as she went, and there was a sad little smile on her face.

I smiled tightly back at her as a rush of frozen panic filled me.

She'd made her choice, then.

Now it was my choice to make.

I could follow my ambition to the noble Slytherin house, and make the Wizarding World great, or I could follow my heart, which was tugging me insistently toward the Gryffindor table and my best friend. The only friend I'd ever chosen for myself, the only one I wanted to spend any amount of time with.

And now she was one of those foolish Gryffindors.

I watched in despair as James Potter was also Sorted to that damnable house. Was I really willing to spend the next seven _years_ sleeping in the same room as Black and Potter? They had already shown themselves to be bullies...I would never be able to sleep comfortably in my dormitory.

But was I here to be comfortable?

Of course not. I was here to make good on my promise—I was here to protect Lily from anyone who would hurt her.

But what about the plan? I'd had my life mapped out for years, ever since my mother had decided to give her husband a son. What would I do now? And who was going to protect Lily in Gryffindor when I was born to join Slytherin house?

Gritting my teeth, I realized that I'd known all along. Lucius wasn't going to protect Lily now that she was a Gryffindor. Nobody would, and honestly, I wouldn't trust that job to anyone else. I was going to protect her, I was going to stay beside her—just like I promised—and keep her safe.

The Sorting continued, and my apprehension swelled.

_Be brave, Severus—be brave for Lily._

"Snape, Severus!" McGonagall said.

I walked up to the hat and glared at it, and then sat at the stool and awaited my turn. _Stupid enchanted hat. Couldn't make it easy on me, could you? Well, we'll see how you like being on my head..._

The hat was dropped onto me. After several long moments, and me threatening the Sorting Hat with a vat of boiling acid, the wide brim split at last.

"_Gryffindor!"_

In that moment, my destiny was distilled as well; out of the murky, aqueous solution of the past came a new, pure substance. A new future.

Lucius's eyes widened and he glared at me.

I glared right back. _I know more dark magic than most of the seventh years here, and you know it, too. If you care to test me...you know which Common Room you'll find me in._

I moved next to Lily and glared down at Sirius, who scowled up at me but grudgingly scooted over anyway. I took my seat next to Lily, where I belonged, and served myself a helping of bacon and steak.

Lily stared at me strangely. Sadly.

"Sev...I thought you...I mean, we always talked about how great Slytherin was going to be..."

I glanced sideways at Lily, "I promised you, didn't I? I'm not going to let a silly thing like a foppish talking hat get in the way. Now hush up and eat, you're as thin as that wand you're fiddling with."

She didn't say anything else, but she started humming the chorus of _Wild Horses_ as she munched on her dinner. I idly wondered if that was going to be her new favorite song. Her quiet, musical voice permeated me; crashing me into revelation after revelation as I ate mechanically.

It was as if I had lived my whole life curled up in one corner of this small, impossibly dark room, and someone had suddenly turned the lights on. The room wasn't little and black anymore—it was splashed with dazzling spatters of every imaginable color, and it was so much _bigger_ than I'd ever known...

I'd found the answer to a question I hadn't even thought to ask, one that seemed so vitally important now that I wondered how I'd missed it for so long. I had found that I could be brave, too; I didn't have to be diplomatic—didn't ever have to beg again. I could stand up and face my fears; I could protect Lily.

I didn't feel like a coward any longer—I felt like whipping out my wand and taking care of that pesky, damsel-stealing dragon.

_I turned my back on everyone today—defied their every expectation—for her sake. I stood my ground; I saw my promise through, no matter the cost. That sounds like something a hero would do, doesn't it?_

_I don't feel like a hero yet, but this is definitely a step in the right direction._

_I won't be afraid anymore—even if it takes me the rest of my life to believe it. Now I know the distance between a hero and a coward; it is precisely the same as the distance between what is right and what is easy._

_So it's time to start being a hero._

_I never wanted an easy life, anyway.

* * *

_

Sorry for the long break. I've been busy with work and school, and writing more original material. None of it publishable yet, but it's getting there. I haven't forgotten about you guys, and I will definitely finish all my works. I'll have a bit more time to dedicate to you after another 6 weeks, but I'll try hard to squeeze as many words into each day as I can. For your consistent, unfailing support, I owe you all that much. Thank you so much for everything you've already done for me. I can't express how much your thoughts have meant to me.

I still feel like this story is incomplete in areas, so I'm going to try to polish up the plot arcs I've got and publish them as snapshots through the years, instead of a single unbroken tale. That's what most old people agree on, that their lives read more like a series of snapshots than a video. It *should* work, but what is ever as it should be? (: Stay tuned. I've got a lot of this story written already, it's just a matter of organizing, finishing and polishing. But rest assured, there is a lot of new material in this story, and it's allowed me to get a lot more personal and involved in the characters. If you liked the Journal, you should really love the Life.

My other new story, ET4aL, will take a bit more time: it's not nearly as complete as this one yet. And I'm still agonizing over L2B. Of course. I've put so much time and effort into that story that nothing seems to be good enough, anymore. I have no idea how to wrap it up in a way that satisfies me, and I'm terrified that it won't satisfy all of you, either. So I keep erasing and rewriting...been tossing around the idea of cutting it in half and giving you 2 more chapters to wait for... *sigh*

Anyway, this is me letting you know that I've been sorting my life out with varying degrees of success, and I'm back in the game. Let's pound it out, shall we? Reviewers will be loved forever.


	3. Mirror

((Okay, okay. I know, I'm in the wrong, I'm a terrible person. Believe me, I understand! I have the last quarter of this story pretty well fleshed out, but I'm done trying to fill in the rest. And honestly, it's a lot harder to get into the right frame to write this story than it used to be. I just don't want to get that deep in the demons anymore.

So instead, I'm going to post all the chapters (even the ones with nothing but a few suggestions of what should happen this chapter) with minimal editing so I can focus more effort on finishing my more popular stories, and also working on my original fiction. More to come on that, but I don't want to promise anything more since we all know how I do with promises.

In short, it's going to turn into just a more detailed version of the Journal. Which is precisely what I didn't want for this story, but when in life do we get everything that we want?

Anyway, thank you all obsequiously and incessantly for your support, both tacit and expressed; it really does mean the world to me. Here goes the word dump, get ready to grimace repeatedly. . .and perhaps sift some meaning out of the rest.))

* * *

Chapter Two

* * *

_In What Mirror Could You Ever Be Ugly? Show Me That Mirror, So I Can Destroy It_.

* * *

"Look, I'm not saying you're ugly, Lily. . .I'm just saying, if the Bloody Baron and an oven fire decided to have a love child—" James Potter was at it again.

I hexed him straight away, smirking as his pants vanished into the ether. The Great Hall erupted in laughter.

Potter whirled around, livid. His eyes met mine and I raised my wand skyward in a wizard's salute, commonly used before a duel. _Yeah, I did it. Come on and do something about it, toerag._

He hadn't even dug his wand out of his pocket by the time our Head of House barreled between us. Another week of detentions.

I didn't care. Nobody insulted Lily Evans. Nobody hurt her. Ever.

"I won't forget this, Snivellus." he spat. Sirius Black scowled alongside him, nodding.

"I hope you don't, Potter. But any time you need your memory refreshed, just let me know," I scowled as they marched away. I turned with Lily to head up to Charms. She looked stern, but I could tell she was pleased that I stuck up for her. Of course I stuck up for her. I promised I'd protect her, didn't I?

More than just protecting her, I wanted to enable her. I wanted to make sure she had every advantage, every possible answer to any question she could wonder, so that she could become the most brilliant witch who ever lived. And I would be right there by her side, smiling up at her.

I had to study intensely to keep up with our combined course loads, of course. It was a small price to pay for never having to tell Lily that I didn't know.

"You didn't have to do that, Sev. I mean, he's just having a laugh. It wasn't anything harmful."

I shook my head at the incredible breadth of her goodwill. "Not harmful? He's an arrogant, cruel little pillock, Lily. He deserved it." As I rounded the corner to the stairwell, one of the ghosts flew through my stomach with a cackle. I hissed in irritation as it disappeared through a stained glass window.

"It's not harmful if it's true, that's what 'Tuney always told me."

"You cannot expect me to believe James Potter just had an epiphany that he had to share with you in front of the entire school. It simply isn't true."

"Of course it's true, Sev. . .I mean, look at me," she tucked her right hand in behind her left elbow, half-hugging herself. It was a common posture for her—one that I could now see was an insecure one. "I'm thin as a rail, I'm pale as a ghost, I've got freckles EVERYWHERE, my hair looks like straw that's been lit on fire, my eyes are the color of pickled toads, I can't even transfigure a toothpick into a pin, I'm clumsy, I'm stupid, I'm absolute rubbish-"

I just stared at her in horror, like she'd grown a second head.

She finally noticed, and cut off her rant. "What?" she muttered self-consciously. "Say something, Sev, you're embarrassing me."

I gripped her tightly by the shoulders. "If you never believe another word I say," my voice was low and intense, "if nobody else ever tells you this as long as you live, I need you to understand, right now, just how great you are. You are brilliant and pretty and wonderful and the best thing in my life. You are worth more than every one of those fools in there, and if I ever catch one of them saying horrible things like that about you, I'll hex them so hard that they'll be blinking their elbows for a month! Don't listen to them; they don't know the first thing about you. Listen to me. Trust me. You are so much better than you know. So much _more_. Can you believe me? Can you trust your best friend to tell you the truth?"

"Of course I trust you, Sev. . .But-" she blushed furiously.

"No. But nothing. Every part of you is beautiful, from your hair down to your toes. You are the kindest, most amazing witch I've ever met. You are so incredible that I wonder why on earth you spend your time with me. I feel like I need to be a better person just to stand next to you. So please. . .don't talk like that. Don't ever believe that about yourself. And if you can't believe me yet. . .I'd settle for a smile."

She was staring at her feet, embarrassed about the praise I'd heaped on her, but intensely pleased, too. "You. . .really thing I'm all those things, Sev?"

After noticing just where my hands were, I released her quickly and looked away, suddenly feeling very warm. "Sorry. I didn't mean. . .I just wanted you to know how much. . .Well, I can see that I've embarrassed you thoroughly, and I apologize. But I won't take back a word of what I said. Not ever. You're the most brilliant witch I've ever met, and it. . .bothers me, that you can imagine so many flaws; that you think so little of yourself. So for my sanity, please, don't speak like that about yourself. Have confidence. Have faith. I have the highest standards when it comes to choosing a best friend, after all, so you have to be pretty incredible to earn that lofty title. Right?"

Her face was still hidden by her bangs, but she nodded and then giggled softly, mouthing something that I couldn't hear.

"What's that? I didn't quite hear you. . . ."

"I said thank you, Sev!" She shot me a wide, toothy grin. "You always know how to make me feel better. I'm okay now, let's go to class."

I persuaded her to skip, since Professor Flitwick would excuse her for anything, so we sat on the front steps and I summoned a squirrel for her to play with. I had to keep summoning it back, though, because it kept squirming away from her and running. I found it hilarious how frantic the squirrel was to escape, but Lily was almost in tears, dejected about how much the squirrel hated her.

I was so intent on making her happy, so focused and greedy. It was an intensely powerful feeling, and it very nearly scared the magic out of me sometimes. I'd rather starve than be without Lily.

Although I didn't know how a compulsion charm would affect a small creature, I sent one at it anyway—the best one I could manage. It wouldn't do much to a wizard, maybe make them want to scratch their nose, but this was a much smaller beast. _Love her, you damnable squirrel. If you make her cry, I'll feed you to one of Hagrid's ridiculous pets!_

She cooed and petted the squirrel as it nuzzled into her stomach, trying to burrow itself into her to get away from the incredibly scary boy with the stick. "Aww. . .look, Sev! She likes me!"

"Of course she does, Lily. I'd be worried if she didn't." I beamed, satisfied with myself.

The words she'd spoken before haunted me. _She really thinks that about herself? She really sees herself as James Potter says?_

I stared after my best friend as she played tag with the squirrel. I nudged it along whenever it tired of the game, and a thought formed in my head. It resolved clearer and harder with every heartbeat. The corner of my mouth pulled up slightly into a smirk.

_It might be a hard road ahead, and it might be a lot more painful than I'd imagined or expected, but it's okay if it hurts._

_I wouldn't miss it for the world._


	4. Change

((This one's relatively complete, at least as far as the arc I was advancing. Hooray!))

* * *

Chapter 3

* * *

_Change? Is That What You Want? I'd Change Anything For You. I'd Change The Stars If It Made You Smile._

* * *

She was growing distant. Or more aptly, she was being pulled away from me. She sat with her other friends at lunch, and they always managed to squeeze tightly enough together that I couldn't join them. She'd smile apologetically, but I could see how much her other friends didn't want me there.

She tried her best to make it even, I had to acknowledge that. She'd walk with me to her classes, she'd study with me when her other friends hadn't made her promise to help them. But it wasn't enough.

It was never enough.

I'd overheard them talking about me many times, of course. I knew why I wasn't allowed to sit with Lily at lunch. Her other friends wondered why on earth she hung around a greasy, creepy boy like me. I didn't care at all what they thought of me, but hearing Lily's response. . . .

"Look, don't make fun of him. I know he's not very sociable, and I know he's got some problems with hygiene, but he's the most loyal friend I could ask for. He's always been there for me, okay? So don't talk about him like that."

The other girls didn't like this answer at all, even as my chest puffed out like some prepubescent peacock. I was quite sure I'd sprout tail feathers if she'd continued. "Listen, Lily. We like you, but some day you're going to have to choose. We don't like him coming around."

I narrowed my eyes. The girl who'd delivered this ultimatum, Abby, perhaps, would dare to make Lily choose between us? With as much as I'd invested in her, with as much as I'd done for her, I felt certain that she'd choose me, but it bothered me. She shouldn't have to choose. She should be able to have her girlfriends and have me as well. I'd never make her choose between two things she liked. Those girls, however abhorred they were by me, made her happy. And I'd never take a single thing from Lily Evans that made her happy.

I mused often about why she got so cross at him sometimes, what I'd done, how I could keep from doing that again—rational and deliberate, just like I'd been taught. I just wanted to keep her from ever being sad or cross with me again. I wanted to see joy in those green eyes, and nothing else. Ever. I was fiercely protective of her happiness.

So I decided that I'd remove the problem, which was that her other friends didn't like me. I knew well enough why they didn't like me, they told her and me every chance they could find. So I would change, and Lily wouldn't have to choose at all.

That night I ran and showered twice afterward.

The next morning I showered again, and then I had three eggs with no bacon or sausage, one slice of toast, half a banana, a cup of yogurt and a cup of cottage cheese.

I ran up and down seven whole flights of stairs at lunchtime. Then I did it again.

That night at dinner, I ate Brussels sprouts for the first time in years. I hated Brussels sprouts.

The days stretched into weeks, and my new regimen grew alongside my physical capabilities. I could run around the entire lake now without stopping.

At the end of the term, no change was noted in Abby and her friends. Lily didn't even notice, and it disheartened me slightly. No matter; I'd have plenty of time to change soon enough.

I waved goodbye to her at Platform nine and three-quarters, and felt the eternity of Summer hols stretching out before me. Rather than despair, I felt a heady anticipation; I didn't want to see her again until I had become what she needed now. Until I had adapted again.

_Lily's embarrassed by me; I trouble her with my actions. Easily fixed, I can change that. I can change anything. I'll change so much that you won't even recognize me anymore. I'll change so much that you'll never take your eyes off of me._

I begged money off of my parents to get a haircut; it was short and easily managed. I didn't know much about hair maintenance, so I wanted something that I couldn't screw up.

I ate a lot more food, and I worked out twice a day. I finished my homework at the end of the second week, and then I increased my workouts to three times a day. I ran in the morning, lifted at midday, and did bodyweight exercises at night. My parents didn't bother me at all, predictably.

She stopped by twice to see me, and I had to beg my parents to tell her that I was sick. I had to promise to be unnoticeable for the entire break. They would leave 3 pounds on the table in the morning so I could buy food for the day, and I promised that they wouldn't even know I was here. I didn't eat with them, I didn't bother them for anything at all. . .it was like I was already back at school.

So they told Lily that I had spattergroit. "I hope he'll be over it by the time school starts, otherwise he'll have to stay at home. I don't want that, 8 weeks is more than enough." My mother was most convincing.

I spent all day outside, flying on a dilapidated Shooting Star that I had borrowed from Hogwarts for the Summer. When I wasn't flying, I worked out and read and slept and ate in our overgrown backyard. It was an exceptionally sunny summer, thankfully. I'd gotten ravenous with how much I'd been moving about. I only went inside to sleep at night and grab more books from the library. I snuck around the house and did my best to be invisible. To that end, I practiced my disillusionment charms nearly every hour; I was getting steadily better at them. If I stood still, it almost looked like I was invisible. I was still very angular at the edges, so it was a bit more noticeable when I moved.

It was mostly so my parents wouldn't notice me sneaking about. I'd promised that I would stay out of sight and out of mind for the rest of the holiday, and so I did. It might have been the easiest Summer I'd ever had.

* * *

By the time I arrived at King's Cross station, I was burning with nausea and excitement. I couldn't stop thinking about Lily; would she like the changes I'd made? Would it be enough?

She'd worried about me, since she didn't know what spattergroit was, but it sounded very prickly. However, she didn't expect that I'd look so. . .different.

When she saw me she gaped, dumbstruck. My chest swelled.

_This right here, this made it all worth it. This was all for you, Lily. If there was ever a part of me that was repulsive to you, I would cut it off and throw it away. I would cut every part of me away until all that was left was what you loved. I would do anything for you._

"So this is what spattergroit does to you? Wish I would catch it. . ."

I laughed a bit too hard at her joke, but I couldn't restrain myself. I was exuberant.

She hugged me and remarked that I smelled good. I smiled back at her.

We sat with several of her friends on the train; they didn't block me out or say the place was occupied, they just stared at me curiously. They didn't even recognize me until Lily called me Sev, and when she did they gaped, too.

I could tell that Lily was beside herself with happiness.

_You never have to choose with me, Lily. I'll never ask you to quit something that makes you smile._

Two weeks into term I tried out for the Gryffindor Quidditch Team, and was selected for the position of Reserve Seeker, required only to attend one team practice per week. I had to suit up for games, but would not be required to play unless the regular Seeker was injured or unconscious.

That was the best possible outcome for me. I'd been tutoring Lily's friends—now that they were no longer disgusted by me—and was very glad that I'd been able to win them over. Now I got to spend even more time with Lily.

During practice was another matter; Potter, who was a Gryffindor Chaser and already being hailed as a prodigy, was incensed by my presence on his beloved House Team. So every practice I attended was laced with barbs and insults, I didn't know why he singled me out so much, but I found out soon enough. Lily was waiting for me after practice one night with a question about her Potions essay, and I caught James staring after her as we walked away. He'd looked like a lovesick puppy.

He'd been born with or freely given everything that I had worked so hard to achieve. And now this? Now he wanted the one thing in life that I truly needed?

I wouldn't just roll over and let him take my life. If he wanted her, he'd be in for one hell of a fight.

Lily was incredibly pleased with the turnaround, and smiled at me a lot more now. Every smile was worth the price I paid. Why hadn't I done this sooner? It made her happy, and that was what mattered.

I tried my very hardest to be polite to anyone she socialized with, so they would like me as well. I never wanted her to have to choose between me and her other friends. She could have me any way she wanted me.

I was still very thin, not at all muscular like Potter and his friend Sirius Black were getting, but I was growing taller and more defined by the week. I kept my hair short with a pair of scissors, since the spell was significantly trickier to wield. I showered at least once a day, twice on practice day, and still worked out every single morning.

In class, I was making concerted efforts to be a more enjoyable student. I raised my hand and answered questions several times a week; my teachers all noticed and commented on my improved attitude.

I had adapted once more.

* * *

Mulciber bumped into Lily in the hallway after Potions, knocking her sideways. "Watch your step, Mudblood," he snarled.

"Don't call her that!" I shouted, stepping between him and Lily.

Avery's wand was out already, and before I could retrieve mine he'd shot a curse at Lily.

Luckily, my arm was already in the way as I pushed her away from the two Slytherins.

Unluckily, the curse vanished the bones in my left arm.

My boneless arm flopped uselessly to my side, and I yelled in rage. Professor Slughorn had been watching; she gave both Slytherins detention for a month and docked them 50 points each.

I was disappointed and ashamed that I couldn't defend myself properly at the time, but that just meant I had more time to plan my revenge. I could wait for an opening; an opportunity that would allow me to pay them back for their consideration without being discovered.

There was a time that I would have left them alone, believing their school punishment satisfactory. But the more I sacrificed for Lily Evans, the more involved I became, the more I realized that I hated anyone who hated her. Anyone who caused her pain caused me greater pain, because I'd been unable to protect her from it. I wanted them to pay dearly for their actions; I wanted them to hurt so badly that they'd never imagine harming Lily Evans again.

The more I learned of magic, and of the human condition, the more I realized how truly fragile we humans were. Pain was elemental, it was natural and involuntary. Being hurt was as easy as breathing. I just had to choose the type of pain I most wanted to inflict. Did I want to curse their bones to grow larger than their bodies had intended? Did I want to curse their muscles to loosen, dislocating their joints? Did I want to burn them or freeze them? Did I want to cut them? Blind them? So many decisions, and all of them so pleasant to imagine. . . .

My opportunity came upon me quite by surprise. Double Potions with Slytherins was usually a hectic time, everyone coming and going with potions ingredients and scales and knives. Mulciber and Avery were partnered up as usual, and I'd been over at the potions cabinets gathering the necessary ingredients for Lily and me. The potion, a basic Hiccupping Solution, called for doxy eggs. They were nearly the same shape and size as ashwinder eggs, which were located in the next cabinet over, but a vastly different color; muddy brown to blazing orange.

I grabbed a bowl that matched Avery's and surreptitiously counted out 14 ashwinder eggs, the same amount as the doxy eggs that were required for the Hiccuping Solution. I waited until they were both staring deep into their cauldron, and then switched bowls with them and casually walked back to my station. I hadn't broken stride to do the switch, I hoped they hadn't noticed.

It was barely three minutes later when they got to the stage where they were supposed to add the doxy eggs one half at a time. Avery didn't even turn his head away from the cauldron as he fumbled around for his bowl and tipped the eggs all at once into his half-congealed solution.

The large, clear bubbles that immediately began forming were certainly not described in the textbook, so they leaned in closer to inspect them. I froze in place, excitement seething in me. Could they honestly be that stupid?

I realized the answer immediately; yes, yes they could. How. . .serendipitous.

The fireball was as wide as the table they were working on, and it instantly consumed the entire upper halves of their bodies. They both let out keening, high-pitched wails and then the entire classroom erupted in complete chaos.

I stirred our Hiccupping Solution with a glass stirring stick and carefully added halves of Avery's doxy eggs one at a time, unable to keep the grin from growing increasingly wider on my face as the fools tried to smother each other's flames with the unburned sections of their robes.

The fire was caused by the liquid's fumes reacting with oxygen, not by the liquid itself. So smothering the flames merely spread the _in_flammable liquid around onto previously untouched surfaces, where it released more fumes that promptly lit on fire as well. I couldn't have done a better job of it if I'd have been right beside them, shouting out the worst possible instructions. It was as if they instinctively knew which action would be the _least_ beneficial to their health, and took it without question.

Lily was gaping at the pair in horror as I finished adding our doxy eggs, so I turned the burner to low and covered the cauldron so the potion could simmer. I stared at the spectacle taking place several tables ahead of us and reveled in the immense satisfaction I felt as the curiously strong smells of hair burning and naturally-occurring skin oils boiling mingled with the slightly sweet scent of the Hiccupping solution.

It smelled like. . .victory.


	5. See

((Another relatively intact chapter. I know what you're thinking; if _this_ can be considered intact, what in the crap can his bad chapters look like? Read on, fearless reader. You'll soon find out.))

* * *

Chapter 4

* * *

_What Do You See In Them, Exactly? I Have To Ask You That, Because I Can't Ask Why You Don't See It In Me._

* * *

I was. . .unprepared—yes, that's a diplomatic word—for Lily's first date.

Amos Diggory, a pale Hufflepuff, had been hanging around Lily more frequently, and I'd made an effort to be nice to him. It was perfectly in keeping with my normal attitude, since I always made a concerted effort to get along with anyone Lily Evans associated with. Whatever let her have it both ways.

Amos had been rather nervous in the days leading up to this, but I'd just assumed he was stressed out over the tests before Winter Holiday. Well, it wasn't like we were prepping for our OWLs yet, that was next year.

But one particular Friday after Transfiguration, Amos stumbled over to Lily and scratched his head, pointedly looking anywhere but at the witch in front of him. "Lily? A word, please?" his voice cracked when he said her name, which amused me thoroughly, but something about the way he was acting set my teeth on edge.

Lily nodded supportively, sensing how incredibly nervous he was. She always tried her best to put people at ease, and while it was normally a very endearing trait, I found myself wishing she was just a bit more of a harpy to people like poor Amos here.

"Well, y'see, this weekend's a Hogsmeade weekend. . ." he sucked in a quick breath, apparently needing to catch his breath in the span of a single sentence.

He asked her to Hogsmeade, and she was understandably surprised, but more surprising was that she stumbled through a sure, why not.

I felt my heart twisting. Why had she never asked me before?

She walked out to Herbology with me, and told me how shocked she was. "I mean, he's kind of cute, I guess, and he's nice. . ."

Why on earth did I feel sick?

I excused myself from class after about ten minutes. I made sure it was long enough after class began that she wouldn't guess at why I left. So after looking as normal as possible, I clutched at my stomach and moaned, "I think I'd better go to the Hospital Wing, I don't feel right."

I made my way up to Madam Pomfrey, who asked what was wrong. "I'm not going to tell you, but I'll make her some blood replenishing potions if you excuse me from the classes today."

She appraised me critically.

I spoke over her inevitable rejection, "I'll beg if I have to. Please, don't make me go back to classes today. I won't go; you might as well get something productive out of it."

She sighed, nodded, and insisted that she wouldn't make a habit out of it.

My mouth twisted into a scowl. "I certainly hope not, Madam Pomfrey."

A string of boys followed after Diggory, and within a few weeks, some Ravenclaw had kissed her. My heart cracked a bit when I heard her friends talking about it. She hadn't told me that he'd kissed her. Why not?

Her first kiss. On November 5, 1974, a gangly 4th year named Stewart Ackerley stole Lily Evans's first kiss.

For the first time, I felt a small fissure forming on the surface of my heart. It cracked and separated, bleeding out slowly.

It hadn't been me.

She dated this one for over a month, and seemed quite pleased with him. Most unsettlingly, she began spending more time with him than with me.

I started to ask myself what was wrong with me, that I'd been beside her all this time and she'd never once gone out with me, never kissed me. . .What area was I deficient in? I looked at myself in the mirror more often, studied myself. Was it my face? My eyes? Was I not built well enough yet? Not tall enough?

I asked Lily all sorts of best-friend-ly questions about her suitors, but the main one was always, "What do you see in him, Lily?"

But what I really wanted to know, what I never had the courage to ask . . . "What don't you see in me?"

She went on quite a few dates with him, gushed and complained to me, and I listened greedily. I learned what made her happy, what irritated her, what made her sad, what made her jealous. . .I remembered all of them very clearly. I savored them. They were the secrets of Lily Evans. They were what made her unique, what made her so lovely. I cherished her secrets.

One day she would realize that nobody else knew her as I did. Nobody else would ever love her as I did.

* * *

Our penultimate Quidditch game was against Ravenclaw, and as a chaser, Ackerley was something of a celebrity in the week leading up to the game. They were only just behind Slytherin in House points, this game could make or break their chances for the House Cup this year.

Lily had remarked on several occasions that he was quite good, that everyone said so. "I never thought it'd be enjoyable watching Quidditch, but watching my boyfriend up there. . .It will be kind of nice, I think."

I stretched a smile over my frustration.

The Ravenclaw boy broke up with her that Thursday; he'd finally asked one of his teammates out and she'd said yes. They looked deliriously happy, while Lily was heartbroken.

I would have to slip him a potion of some sort; one that did something awful to him. But after the game; they would be less likely to investigate since it didn't interfere with Quidditch, and I didn't care about the House Cup. Ackerley had been dating the most brilliant and amazing witch in the world, and he threw it away. Oh, he would suffer for this.

James Potter, who had been hailed as a rising star and a prodigy by most of the school, played by far the worst game anyone had ever seen him play. He fumbled easy passes, lagging behind formation and generally being surly. I was pleasantly surprised.

I had to suit up for the game, but was allowed to sit in the stands with Lily unless I was called upon.

Lily smirked when she noticed how horribly Potter was playing. "Serves the bastard right."

I glanced at her curiously, and she grinned in a thoroughly distracting manner. "So Potter might have asked me out this morning at breakfast."

My eyes widened in shock.

"And I might have told him that he was a loathsome little git, and to go shove his foot up his own arse, so I wouldn't have to do it myself."

I beamed at her, so incredibly pleased at her words that I barely registered the cheering that had erupted in the stands around us. The Gryffindor Seeker had caught the Snitch, but I couldn't be bothered with trivialities.

Lily Evans just stomped the heart right out of Potter. I let out my own triumphant yell, grinning ear to ear as I got caught up in the crowd's infectious enthusiasm.

The Seeker flew next to Potter as the rest of the team flew to the ground, shouting something at him that I couldn't make out. Potter responded with his own shouting, plus a rude hand gesture for good measure, and the Seeker punched him in the nose.

The crowd stilled as Madam Hooch flew up to the pair blowing her whistle shrilly. Words were uttered; I had no idea what was going on until Madam Hooch announced that the Gryffindor Seeker was banned for the rest of the season due to unsportsmanlike conduct.

"Oh, that's wonderful news!" Lily exclaimed, drawing incredulous stares from nearly everyone within earshot. We were squarely in the middle of the Gryffindor stands, after all.

"I don't quite follow you, Lily. Our Seeker just got banned for the last game of the season, against Slytherin no less, and you're happy about it?" Sometimes, despite my best efforts, I really had no idea what went on in that beautiful head of hers.

"Are you daft, Sev? You're the reserve Seeker, which means you get to play against Slytherin! I can't wait to see you fly!" She grinned brightly at me, slapping me on the back excitedly.

My face lit up as she spoke, and I suddenly smiled so widely that my cheeks ached from the strain. Her smile had always been dizzying, but it suddenly doubled in brightness as I watched. Somehow, unbelievably, she'd managed to very nearly blind me at midday. She was simply too beautiful to look at, sometimes.

I sat down hard on the wooden bench so I wouldn't pass out, staring out at the Quidditch Pitch and thinking about all the things that were suddenly going brilliantly.

Oh, this was perfect.

Potter had been rejected by Lily Evans, and then proceeded to play the absolute worst game he'd ever played in his 'd also just had his nose broken by his own teammate. The notched nose would be rather fetching look on him, I thought.

I got to play against Slytherin in the final match of the year, for the Quidditch Cup, and there was nothing that Potter could do about it.

And to top it all off, Lily Evans was looking forward to seeing me play. Lily Evans would be cheering for _me_ as I faced off against our rivals, and the House I had been destined to enter before I met her. The House I now hated with a burning intensity.

Lily Evans made me happy, of course, but who would've thought that Potter had so much to do with my happiness, as well? The worse he felt, the more satisfied I was. I hadn't known that about myself; how perfectly marvelous.

I had a little over a month until the match with Slytherin, and I wanted to play like a member of the National team, not the school one. Lily's words about looking forward to watching me play echoed in my head. I felt my pulse quicken in anticipation as I began to go over a list of potions that could help me play like a professional.

This match _would_ be perfect. I'd make sure of it.

I would use every magical and muggle recourse available to me to convince her that I was worthy of her affection.

Whatever Lily had seen in Stewart Ackerley, I would make her see it in me.


	6. Fight

((SUPER rough, this is as raw and not-fleshed-out as it gets. I wanted to write it as aggressive, impatient, and just a glimpse of the darkness that Severus is capable of. I clearly did not, as you can see.

Also, I know the story's written in first-person, so please forgive the third person; it's the only perspective I can type my brainstorms in. Weird, huh?))

* * *

Chapter 5

* * *

_If It Was A Fight You Wanted, Then I'd Give You The Fight Of Your Life. But It's Only My Life You Want._

* * *

She's off with some boy or another, ignoring him again. It's beginning to be a pattern. She'll date a boy and suddenly won't have time to study with him, to talk to him, to be around him. She'll eat with the boy, and study with him, and she'll smile at him. . .and he is left alone again. Sometimes for weeks.

The night before the match, he finishes brewing the potions. He timed them to finish around 6pm so they would be at peak effectiveness the next morning and he could finish them in peace. Everyone else would be in the Great Hall, and nobody would notice his absence as he finished his potions. His dormmates rarely showed up for bed before midnight, so after tickling the pear and grabbing a light dinner he headed up to his room and just lay there, staring up through the darkness at the curtains draped over his four- poster.

He clutched at his chest, digging his nails into the sensitive skin over his heart. He couldn't stop the twisting, squeezing ache.

_It hurts, Lily. . ._

_Love is supposed to be euphoric, isn't it?_

_With all I've read of love, I expected joy. I expected peace._

_Instead, I feel only anxiety and sadness. Needing you so badly, and yet remaining unneeded. . ._

_How can this be love?_

Quidditch Match - Gryffindor vs. Slytherin.

Short talk with James before the match: burying the hatchet temporarily, just focusing on winning the game.

Today I'll show Lily just what she is missing. Today I'll prove my worthiness.

_Watch me, Lily. Please. Look what I have become for you. Look at me. I'm right here._

After party. I must have needed to stake a claim, somehow. I can't explain it.

Summer hols, musings.

_She is my life. My whole life. And I'll not let Potter take her from me._

_You don't want me to fight over you, but how can I not stand and fight? What else can I do?_

_Potter would rather I just roll over and let him take you from me. He'd rather I just roll over and let him take my life._

_I'd rather die fighting, thank you very much._


	7. Dance

((Of all the things I've written, this is one of my favorite chapters, fanfiction or original. I love seeing these characters becoming more human and connective through their interplay, especially knowing how it ends. It makes moments like these somehow more beautiful. . .magnified in their maddening impermanence.))

* * *

Chapter 6

* * *

_Why Was I Afraid Of Dancing? I Simply Can't Remember, I'm Too Occupied With Ensuring That This Night Never Ends. Ever._

* * *

It took every last ounce of nerve I had to ask her to the Yule Ball; I'd practiced hard so that I looked and spoke as casually as possible. If Potter wanted Lily, he had to know that I wouldn't just roll over and let him take her. I had to be bold, I had to be courageous.

She laughed when I asked, and I thought for a moment that I'd been rejected. I was still in the numb phase, and she suddenly said, "Of course I'm going with you, Sev. Who else would I go with? Potter?"

My blood, which had started calming, froze in my veins. "It's a joke, Sev. I'd never. . .with him? That annoying toerag? Psh."

I smiled again. Thank GOD for that. I let relief wash over me.

"He asked me, you know. . ." Lily said again after a long silence.

"Hm?" I didn't follow, I'd lost my mind completely after realizing that I was actually going on a date with Lily Evans. After all this time worrying about whether she'd say yes, about what it would do to our friendship... I'd finally just out and said it. And she'd said yes!

"Potter. He asked me to the Yule Ball."

"Oh. . .That's. . ." I didn't know what that was.

Lily continued like I hadn't interrupted, "Yeah, I know. He's ridiculous, isn't he? He's so mean to me all the time, but then he'll ask me out like he hasn't just hexed my teeth black. It's bizarre!"

"Yeah. . ." I was still dizzy with relief that she hadn't rejected me. My head was swimming in lazy circles around my body. How utterly satisfying.

She giggled at me. "You look really shocked right now. Are you really so surprised that I hate Potter? I've been saying it for years."

"No," I answered honestly, "I'm just glad that I'm going with you."

She nodded happily. "What are friends for?"

Friends, indeed.

I smiled back at her, knowing that she'd immediately found the one response that could be a yes and still hurt me. It was uncanny, how she was always able to say precisely the wrong thing to me.

I wanted to be her best friend, of course, but I wanted so much more than that. And all she did when she said things like that was reinforce the thought that I was never going to have more of her than I already had. That no matter how bold I became, she would never care as much about me as I cared about her.

Would we never be more than just friends?

The thought terrified me.

* * *

The following day, right before the Yule Ball, Lily was waiting for me in the Common Room. I'd taken far too long getting ready, ensuring everything was perfect. While I was occupied in the washroom, James had hexed Lily's eyebrows off downstairs. "Whoops, didn't see you there, Evans." He laughed, his mates laughed along uncomfortably. They went down to the ball.

She was in shock. Didn't know what had just happened, but judging from the reactions of the people in the Common Room at the time, it hadn't been pretty.

She was in tears when she rushed into my room, where I'd started casting imperturbable charms on my drapes at night to keep the boys from hexing me in my sleep.

She barreled into me before I could ask what was the matter, and she was sobbing openly as I tried to comfort her. "What's wrong?"

We ended up waiting nearly a half hour for the Common Room to empty out, and since we were all dressed up anyway, I asked if she wanted to go. She said no, and I felt my blood start to boil. James Potter. . .couldn't you just allow Lily to exist happily? Couldn't you just go away for one single solitary night and let me be happy with her?

No, he couldn't. He didn't care if Lily was happy. If Lily couldn't be happy with him, then he didn't want her to be happy at all.

That was the difference between us. That would always be the separating factor between Potter and myself.

Suddenly, she dragged me up towards the fireplace. I asked what she thought she was doing. "I got dressed up for a dance, dammit, I wanna dance!"

"But there's no music," I protested weakly.

"Don't care," she retorted.

"I don't know how to dance."

"Don't care!" She whirled around to face me, pulling my right hand up to her back and taking my other one in hers. I was already blushing. She was SO close to me right now... Why did I imagine dancing to be some horrible thing? It wasn't so bad.

She started humming a period-correct song (available in Europe in the winter of 1975) and then she nudged me to one side. We started a slow two-step, she was humming softly in her musical voice and smiling up at me. "See Sev?" she said encouragingly, "it's not so bad!"

Not so bad? That was an entirely inadequate definition. This was. . .I was holding Lily Evans, moving with her. Dancing. With Lily. This was *brilliant*. I grinned down at her, nodding along. Oh, I knew this song. . .Should I?

I hummed along, picking out the harmony, since I'd memorized all her favorite tunes. I even sang a bit in my awful, croaking, ragged voice. I had never been gifted with a beautiful voice, but the terrible singing was entertaining to Lily.

She pulled me closer, insisting that I wasn't going to break her. She wasn't some porcelain doll. So I gripped her more tightly and sung a bit louder, my voice cracking and changing pitch awkwardly, smiling at the reaction I was getting. I couldn't possibly get embarrassed about anything that made her laugh like that...

She finished the song, but didn't let me go. We kept two-stepping clumsily, side to side, and she leaned in and wrapped her arms around me, resting her head on my shoulder. The smell of her hair, the heat of her face on my shoulder, her small, cold hands clutching at my back... she was every bit as overwhelming as the day I met her.

"You're so good to me, Sev," she whispered. "I know I don't tell you this enough, but you're such an amazing person. And you're so strong now. . .Some of my girlfriends have noticed, too. They're talking about you like they talk about Amos Diggory and Sirius Black, it really irritates me. I think I really am the jealous type. . .You're not going to toss me for one of those slags, are you?"

I just blushed, staring determinedly out over her left shoulder. She grinned and poked cheek. "Aw, Sev. . .You're blushing!"

"It's just the fireplace, and these heavy dress robes. Hush, you." I couldn't possibly admit that I blushed so easily around her.

After several long, blissful minutes of closeness, she kicked off her shoes and collapsed on the sofa. "Well Sev, if you're looking to sweep my roomies off of their feet, I'd recommend against serenading them. You'll not win any hearts croaking around like a toad!"

"You seemed to like my singing voice just fine!" I smiled down at her, still euphoric from the dance. It had felt so dangerously, electrically *right* . . . I wasn't sure there was anything I'd rather do than dance with Lily again. I wanted to learn more steps, more complicated and impressive dances. I wanted to lead her and see her face light up in delight.

"It's not that I liked your voice, as much as I was thrilled that there's at least one thing that you're not utterly brilliant at. I really like knowing you're rubbish at something. Is that strange, Sev?" She cocked her head to the side curiously.

That made me blush even darker. Merlin help me, I'd never get it under control if she didn't stop complimenting me...

She grinned like a Cheshire Cat and patted the sofa seat next to her. I sank into the loveseat and leaned back, pleased to once more be sitting next to Lily again.

Even when she was poking my cheek mercilessly, begging me to entertain her.

I wanted to play a game with her. One I'd been surreptitiously practicing for. "Okay Lily, you want entertainment? Let's play a game called 'Finish my Sentence'."

She blinked owlishly. "Never heard of it, Sev. How does it go?"

"It's quite easy. One of us just starts a sentence, but only says the first three or four words of it. Then the other has to finish the sentence, and we'll keep score. The one with the highest score at the end wins a prize."

Lily didn't even pause to think about it. "Okay! I'll go first. James Potter is-"

"-an arrogant little toerag?" I guessed easily.

"Right! One point for Team Sev!" She beamed, leaning back against the seat and concentrating hard. "Okay Sev, your turn."

"Let's see. . .My favorite color is-"

"Erm. . .is it still black?"

"Yes, Lily. It's still black. But you didn't continue my sentence. No point."

"Crap! Do-over!"

I was already a practicing legilimens, of course, so it was rather easy for me to hear her thoughts when I made eye contact. I never invaded her mind, only the thought that was currently running through her head. I respected her too much to force my way into her mind, and she'd certainly feel it if I did. I wasn't good enough to be subtle about it yet, and there weren't any willing parties to practice on here. . . .

So we'd start a sentence, and cut off after three or four words and let the other finish it. She would finish the sentence in her head before speaking it, so of course I knew every answer, but I kept up the charade, thinking long and hard, sometimes even saying completely ridiculous things that made no sense at all in context and losing points in the process.

I didn't care about winning or losing. I just loved making her laugh, making her smile. Knowing that something I'd done had satisfied her. . .that was worth any price. Winning any game was as easy as finding Lily Evans sitting next to me, playing it with me.

This, right here, was worth whatever price was asked of me.

I started with, "You are the most. . ."

She finished with "Attractive, charming and utterly brilliant witch I've ever met, and any bloke would be lucky to have you, with or without eyebrows!" She said it firmly, brooking no argument. Her eyebrows, were they still there, would have been knitted furiously.

I smiled, pleased that her guess was almost word-for-word what my sentence had actually been. Not that she could've possibly guessed that. In any case, I smiled easily and said, "Right in one, another point for Team Evans."

She preened.

This was what life was supposed to be; Lily and I on a couch in front of a crackling fire, doing nothing in particular and loving every minute of it.

We played several more games as the night wore on, each one a thrill to me. I was learning so much about Lily as we played that it was a struggle to commit it all to memory.

"I never. . .hit a girl!" Lily's eyes lit up as she finally thought of something specific that she thought she hadn't done. Points in this game were awarded by figuring out something you'd never done, but your opponents had.

I raised my eyebrows. "Yes you did, remember Eloise Midgen last year?"

"Oh! Forgot about her, sorry. In my defense, she slapped me first. I didn't really remember much about the fight after that." Lily looked chagrined, but kept on, determined. "I never _kicked_ a girl, at least."

"I haven't, either! That's positively barbaric. . ." I grinned at her, wondering how on earth she managed to forget so many facts about her own life.

"Sure, your turn!" Lily's eyes glowed with reflected firelight. She really seemed to love this game.

"Hm. . .I never. . .turned my sister's teacup into a newt over Summer hols."

She gasped in mock outrage. "Sev! You can't single me out like that, it's against the rules!"

"We're the only two playing, Lily—it's not only _within_ the rules, but it's virtually _assured_. Besides, you can single me out, too."

"Well I never hit my sister with a tree branch, then!" she grinned victoriously.

"I haven't hit my sister with anything at all; I'm an only child," I retorted.

"You _know_ what I meant, dammit!" She pouted. She'd been referring to the Summer we first met, where I'd been so angry with Lily's sister that I'd cracked a branch and dropped it on her shoulder.

"I know, I just enjoy being difficult." I flicked my wand and another tally mark appeared on the bricks beside the fireplace, where we'd conjured a scoreboard. "The total's now. . .sixty one points for Severus "The Half-Blood Prince" Snape and forty-eight points for Lily "Losing Never Looked This Good" Evans. Thirteen points down and it's only just after midnight!"

"Psh. If you'd've given me a better nickname, I'd definitely be kicking your trousers by now. And we're not going to quit keeping score until I come out ahead, so you'd better start going a bit easier on me." Lily crossed her arms and tried her best to knit her eyebrows crossly, forgetting again that she'd had them hexed off hours ago.

I didn't bother reminding her, but I did smirk, "Or you could just get used to the fact that I remember your life better than you do. I've no idea how you can forget so much and still do so well on your exams. It's beyond the natural order of things. . ."

"Flattery will get you nowhere. You're going down, Snape."

"Flattery's gotten me quite far already, thank you. I never. . .stole my dorm-mate's training bra and burned it when I couldn't fill it out properly."

"I can't believe you still remember that!" Lily hissed quietly, blushing an unflattering shade of crimson as she looked around for anyone who could've overheard me. "You'll never let me live that down, I never should've told you!"

I laughed, shaking my head, "Oh come on, it's a bit funny. And it was what, second year? Ancient history."

Lily sighed long-sufferingly, giving up with a giggle. "Well, I don't have that problem anymore, so I guess I'll forgive you." She grinned proudly.

I blushed, agreeing silently but wholeheartedly with her. She'd grown upward and _outward_ in incredibly distracting ways over the past year. It made my mind pleasantly foggy, but left an ever-sharper ache in my chest.

I had always wanted more of her, even before I knew about the wonders and horrors of puberty. My aching need for Lily had become far more intense in the last year—simply because I had begun learning just how much more of Lily there was to be had—and these new feelings were squeezing my heart so hard I was sure it would burst any minute now.

It was wholly terrifying. I hadn't meant to, but I'd given Lily an even greater power over me—the power to destroy me utterly.

While I trusted her with my life, it had always been my choice to make. And because I'd had a choice, it had always been easy to accept.

She had every last inch of my heart now, every single scrap, and it had happened without me. I hadn't made any conscious decision, and I couldn't possibly change my mind.

I'd handed her much more than just my life, and I had no idea what she'd do with it if she knew. I was only sure that she was capable of ending me more thoroughly than any curse or deity.

I was more curious now than I'd ever been about her, and I strived as hard as I could to convince myself that this curiosity was dangerous; that these strange new feelings, if expressed to her, would irreparably damage our otherwise perfect friendship.

Our friendship was worth everything to me; I wouldn't allow it to fall into ruin simply because of some silly hormones.

At least, that's what I kept reassuring myself.

She rubbed her hands together as she scoured her mind for ammunition. "Okay, time to turn this train wreck around. I never. . .kissed a frog!" Lily's eyes lit up as she recalled a bet she'd made to me last year. Whichever of us scored lower on our end-of-year exams had to kiss a frog.

I inclined my head, accepting the point. "Indeed. I'm surprised you didn't start bleeding from the eyeballs with all that studying. And you certainly didn't hold back from reminding me every time you saw me during Summer Hols. Very mature."

Lily flicked her wand and added another mark to her side of the board, grinning cheekily.

I tilted my head, wondering if I should push my luck even further than I already had. This dance had brought out a side of me that I tried very hard to keep suppressed; the side that wanted a lot more of Lily Evans than just her friendship.

"I never. . .kissed a boy."

She laughed loudly at that. "What a cop-out, Sev! You've probably never even kissed a _girl!_" Her smile was wide and teasing.

I struggled to keep from wincing, and once I'd gotten my face back under control I smiled embarrassedly. "I guess you're right. . ." Well, that had blown up rather spectacularly in my face.

_Thank you, Lily, for bringing that up. Needless to say, I have not forgotten._ I could feel myself withdrawing from the glorious sense of vulnerability I'd been floating on since our dance hours earlier.

I felt that aching stab of loss again, knowing that she had no idea that I'd never kissed another girl—despite several offers—because I wanted so desperately to kiss _her._

I didn't even notice other girls, and I never wanted to notice them. I only wanted the captivating young witch beside me, and I didn't want her to assume that I was interested in anyone else, just in case she finally started to look at me the way I'd been looking at her for years. Just in case she woke up one day and realized that I was as important to her as she was to me.

She frowned for a moment, as if finally realizing what she'd just said, and then leaned in slightly. "That's really a pity, Sev." She looked at me intently, and my heart rate suddenly sounded far too loud.

"Is it?"

_Wait, Lily, does that mean you want to. . .?_

I sat there, frozen in terror of what it would do to our friendship if I closed the rest of the distance between us and kissed her right now.

A hundred thoughts blazed in my head in that endless instant. Was I misreading her? Did she really want me to kiss her? Would she regret it tomorrow? I didn't want her to do anything she'd regret, and I never wanted her to make things awkward between us. I struggled to control my breathing as my heart fought to beat out of my chest. I couldn't stand to damage our friendship over this. . . .

"Well, I thought so." She shrugged and leaned back against her armrest.

_Damn._ She changed her mind so quickly that I often had no time at all to adapt. I was only just now reaching a decision on what to do if she leaned in—my mind was always two steps behind those mercurial moods of hers.

Although, that's not to say that I had no way to salvage the atmosphere, which had thickened quite awfully.

"Wait, does that mean _you've_ kissed a girl?" I asked curiously, a small smile playing at my lips as I mustered as much of my tattered confidence as I could still scrape together. "I think whoever gets less OWLs this year should have to kiss Emmeline Vance instead of a frog. Talk about win-win. . ." Emmeline was widely considered to be the most attractive girl in 5th year, not that I held that view myself. I only had eyes for Lily.

"Hey!" she protested, blushing fiercely and hitting me with a throw pillow.

After a short, relieved pause, she added, "Thanks for staying up with me, Sev. I feel a lot better about. . .you know."

I shook my head. "It's my pleasure, Lily. Like you said, with or without eyebrows, I'm just lucky to be escorting you."

She sighed, rubbing at the bald skin over her eyes self-consciously. I could feel the irritation radiating from her. "Thanks. You always make me laugh when I feel like hexing everything in sight. . .This definitely ranks up there with the worst things that Potter's ever hit me with. Hair is easy enough to turn red again, but this. . .I can't imagine that someone has wasted time creating a spell that grows your eyebrows."

Desperate for a topic of conversation that would take her mind someplace happier, I returned to our old standby; recounting James Potter's woes. "Well, he's gotten hexed quite spectacularly himself, you know. Remember that time in first year when he said you looked like a grease fire? I hexed his pants off right there in the middle of the great hall, and he'd had those plaid Y-fronts on. . . ."

Lily laughed hard at the memory, tucking her legs up under her on the sofa. "Right! And people kept charming his tie into that precise pattern of plaid for weeks afterward! He was _so_ furious!"

I nodded along, relieved that her mind was off of the latest hex he'd thrown. "And what about a few weeks ago, when you transfigured his hair into a bird's nest? For someone who insists they're rubbish at transfiguration, it was quite a tidy job. He even knocked a few eggs out of the nest when he put his hand up to feel it!"

She blushed, but smiled wider. "Yeah, I'd been practicing that one just for him. His hair always looked like a bird's nest, I just decided to take that idea all the way to the finish. Ooh! What about last year right before end-of-year tests when someone charmed his plate to toss food at his face when he scooped it up? He kept picking up other people's utensils, but it kept bending them and splattering his face! And he'd gotten eggs benedict that morning!"

Lily closed her eyes and replayed the memory, a rapturous grin on her face as she giggled again. "Now _that_ was a creative spell, nobody knows a thing about it! Must've been a student in a higher year, since it was done silently. We haven't covered anything like that yet. Wish I knew who did it, though-I could _kiss_ them for being such a genius!"

I blushed slightly, not realizing that she'd remembered that. And she would never find that spell in any book, since I'd created it myself. It was quite flattering, being complimented so directly by Lily for something she hadn't known I'd done.

"Actually, Lily. . .that was me."

She smirked at me, clearly unconvinced. "Oh, of course it was, Sev. You're that desperate for a kiss, are you?"

I laughed out loud at that, since I was _indeed_ that desperate for a kiss, as long as it was from Lily Evans.

There wasn't much I wouldn't do if the end result involved her pale, perfectly symmetrical lips pressing against mine. Theft, cheating, assault, use of any or all of the Unforgivables. . .name a crime; I'd do anything—anything except coerce her.

"No, really," I protested once my laughter had died down, "that was my spell. I'm glad you liked it. . .it took me ages to get it right."

Her eyes twinkled mischievously as she stretched her legs out across my lap. I studiously ignored the warm, comforting weight that pressed down on the top of my legs. I loved being in contact with Lily. Leaning against her, hugging her. . .The simplest things. I'd been so starved for physical affection for so long that it didn't take much at all to distract me.

"Lucky for you that we're the Common Room, since you need a plate and a spoon to do it. . .You say you can already do silent spells, Sev? That's some pretty advanced magic. How about a demonstration, then? If you can. . ."she looked around for a suitable test, and I preemptively pulled my wand out, "summon that corsage from the table over there silently, then I'll believe you."

I wondered if I should toy with her a bit. But if she believed me. . ._I could kiss them for being such a genius!_

_I could _kiss_ them!_

_One corsage, coming right up._

I clamped my mouth shut deliberately and flicked my wand towards the corsage, which zoomed straight into my hand. I grinned madly as her jaw dropped, and I felt an all-consuming urge to push it further. I didn't show off much, but the thought of earning a kiss from Lily Evans made me want to do something powerful and difficult.

It was an inherently masculine reaction, and I embraced it fully.

With my mouth still clamped shut, I silently transfigured the loveseat throw pillows into a large spoon and plate, set the plate on Lily's lap and tucked the spoon into her unresisting hand. She was so shocked at my sudden show that she didn't even protest.

With a wide and victorious grin, I dropped the corsage onto the plate, and then charmed the silverware silently. The spoon immediately bent and scooped up the corsage, flinging it vigorously into Lily's still-stunned face.

It hit her squarely on her nose, and her head flinched backward in shock. "Wha-" her mouth didn't seem to want to form the words as I winked conspiratorially at her.

_I wonder if now would be the right time to lean in and kiss her?_

Before I could act on that warm, wonderful thought, she blurted, "That was incredible!"

I shrugged, a blush tinting my cheeks for what felt like the thousandth time that night. In my drive to impress Lily, I'd forgotten how much I hated showing off. I felt self- conscious as I returned our throw pillows to their natural state. "It wasn't anything special."

She shook her head vigorously, "No seriously, Sev, that was amazing! You really did create that spell, and you did it silently and everything! That's so impressive!"

_Impressive enough for you to kiss me?_ I wanted so badly to ask, but I was terrified of the answer. So I let her prattle on.

Because the most frightening thing in the world—the thing that I dreaded most of all—was telling Lily how I felt and what I wanted, and watching her pull away from me.

I couldn't live without her anymore. I couldn't survive in a world where she wasn't near me, and I wouldn't do a single thing that jeopardized that closeness. Not ever. So I was resolved to wait for her to make up her mind one way or the other.

I didn't dare risk telling her how I felt without knowing for certain that she felt the same way. I had too much to lose. I had to be patient; I had to let her decide that she loved me on her own. And then I could finally tell her all the things I'd never said to her before.

If it was for Lily Evans. . .I could wait forever. Because there was nothing else on earth worth living for.

There was nothing else on earth that I loved.


	8. Vengeance

((This is another terrible chapter that you should probably skip over. I only put it in to keep continuity. I wanted to flesh out the rage in Severus in this chapter, to further define just how far he will push himself for Lily. Again I have failed, and this is just a rehash of things you've already read in the Journal. Oh well, next chapter.))

* * *

Chapter 7

* * *

_There Is A Darkness Inside Of Me, Beckoning With Its Keening Cry. It Does Not Call For Food Or Drink, For Glory Or Companionship; It Only Cries For Vengeance._

* * *

This chapter, Lily docks the Slytherins points for picking on that first/second year somebody. She'd regret it... yeah, sure.

There are two of us, Sev.

Of course, Lily.

I caught up with Mulciber and Avery after double Transfiguration. Do your worst when it comes to me, but don't you dare touch Lily Evans. If you do. . .I will come for you.

They laughed and walked away. I set my jaw in a grim line, wondering if I should hang them up by their ankles with one of my newest spells. Deciding against action, I walked away. Hopefully, that would be enough.

A week goes by, perhaps, and then he gets a handwritten note telling him a location. Hurry up, Snivellus.

He thinks it's a duel, he's ready to f**king kill someone.

He gets there and his heart very nearly explodes. _No..._

Lily...

Go through the scene with him, his thoughts and the vengeance. That darkness inside of him. He gave himself over to it, and it grew. It howled in triumph.

Go through his talk with Potter, guarding Lily as she slept in the Hospital Wing. He feels so much for her... He wants so badly for her to be okay, for her to smile at him again...

Since they agreed to Terms, Dumbledore can't possibly kick them out. It's Severus's fault. But he goes to them anyway. "Look, the only reason you're not being kicked out is because we agreed to Terms. But look at it this way: now you're stuck in this drafty old castle with me for the next two years. I guarantee, if you allow Lily Evans to come to harm, you will not survive that long. You doubted me before, and look what that got you."

I pointed my finger at his chest, drawing a downward slash to mimic the still-red scar that would forever be etched on him. He winced at the memory.

"The only reason you didn't die there in that hallway was because your friends were there to carry you away. I wouldn't lose a minute of sleep over killing two bags of human trash like you. I hope you believe me now."

"I'm watching you two. If anything happens to her, you will be the ones paying the price. I've got a lot of ideas for the next time we meet. Just pray that she graduates without another incident, because if she's harmed again... there won't be a safe place on the entire earth for you two."

"I'll hunt you down and cause you horrors that you haven't yet dreamed of. And you tell your friends, too: Lily Evans is not to be touched, or else you'll suffer a gory, sticky, atrociously painful death. I will kill the next one of your friends that touches her, and I'll kill you both for allowing it to happen. That's a promise."

"I'll see you around."


	9. Fate

((Another chapter I never fleshed out. Please skip it.))

* * *

Chapter 8

* * *

_It Wasn't Quite The Reaction I Was Hoping For...But In Retrospect, I Really Should've Seen It Coming. Why? Because Fate Is A Raging Bitch, That's Why._

* * *

Lily is pulling away from him, he's getting desperate.

She brushes him off for something, maybe she was going to be studying with James. He was brill at Transfiguration, after all. Severus says he could help her. She says she feels bad taking up all his time with stuff that's so easy for him. She doesn't want to waste his time with this easy stuff.

She's gone before he can tell her that she'll never be a waste of his time.

Off to study with James...

_I know I haven't told you anything, that I've kept my heart guarded, but surely you're not completely oblivious to it. You must have figured out something by now. Anything._

_Haven't you noticed how I can't see anyone else when you're in the same room? How I can hardly breathe when I look at you?_

_Haven't you noticed that you're more important to me than sleep, food, grades, family? More important to me than anything else in the world?_

_How can I care so much about you, and be around you all the time, and still you don't notice the energy that's been building between us for years? How can you be so smart, and not see something that is so incredibly obvious to anyone with even a casual knowledge of us?_

_Why can't you see that you've had my heart since the day we met?_

_And why, Lily, can't you be a bit more gentle with it?_

* * *

Severus confesses, show his reaction. He goes up to the abandoned classroom, gets the living shit kicked out of him by James, gets his eye broken, fixes himself in the hospital wing, avoids Lily and thinks about the past. About everything he wanted, and about how much he hates that fickle mistress called Fate. So much hate...

And yet, he comes to a strange sort of peace; accepts that this pain is a natural part of life. The only thing that he can now call his own.

Why couldn't you be a bit more gentle with me, Lily? I have no defense against you...and I want none.

Well, I suppose she won't need to be more gentle with me from now on. Wouldn't want me to get the wrong idea.

He feels bitterness welling up in him, but he bats it away ruthlessly. Nothing was gained from this bitterness. It didn't help him in any way. He had to stay focused on reality, whatever the cost. He had to cling to reality like a lifeline.

This right now, this here is real. Lily Evans doesn't love me, she never will. She'll love someone else, and it'll probably be Potter. Simply because that would be the worst possible ending for me.

It's just not fair. It's so spectacularly _not_ fair.

Well, that's life. It's time I started getting used to it.

I just need to figure out where I'm going to go from here.

Potter was probably worried that I'd start trying to find out the truth about their wanderings, or tell people when they left. Most of the time their wanderings were because Remus Lupin was a werewolf. I'd figured it out back in 3rd year, I just never really cared. As long as he was away from Lily and me when the moon was full, it didn't matter where he went. His friends went with him, so I was vaguely curious how they survived, but it truly didn't matter compared to how I was supposed to get Lily Evans to fall in love with me.

This is the chapter where Severus decides what his priorities are. He weighs his life, and what it would be without Lily. And he realizes that there are bonds that should never be made lightly, because they simply can't be broken.

Every thought, every touch, every laugh, every fantasy, they were individual strands tying him to Lily. And there were so many strands now that nothing but Death's unerring scythe could cleave it.

Through his efforts over the years, he'd forged a connection to her so strong that nothing but death could sever it-

And not only was Lily unaware of it...

She didn't want it.

How very foolish of him.

But it doesn't change a thing.

He goes back to Lily, asks to be her brother again.


	10. Broken

((Another continuity chapter, devoid of flesh. So sorry.))

* * *

Chapter 9

* * *

_I Vowed That Nothing But Death Would Separate Me From You. Nothing. So Go Ahead; Reject Me. Break My Heart All You Want, But Don't Tell Me To Go Away. Because No Matter How Broken, My Heart Still Beats-And So Long As My Heart Beats, I Am Still Yours._

* * *

Summer Hols. She comes over after two or three weeks of indecision, after he owls her and asks her very bluntly if she's avoiding him because of their argument. He told her the truth. He just wants his best friend back, don't make a meal of it. Please. The Summer is unbearable without you.

She's very nervous, always watching him for any hint that he loved her still. He grew very good at hiding it, grew very good at pretending he wasn't interested in anything beyond their deep emotional connection.

And even though he wanted so much more of her, even though he wanted so desperately to be her lover, he _needed_ her to be his friend. He needed as much of her as she was willing to give him.

This chapter is most of sixth year. Her interactions with James and her and her friends, school, this numbing haze that is creeping into the edges of his consciousness.

He still plays Quidditch. He refuses to play starting Seeker, preferring the one practice per week of the Reserve Seeker. _James_ wouldn't give it to him, anyway. Not that he'd ever tell Lily that.

He tries his best to separate himself from her, but it's in vain. He convinces himself that he doesn't need or want a connection to anyone else, to avoid the fact that he couldn't connect to the only one he wanted to.

He's forgotten how to look at anyone else, he's too tuned to her. He can't even find women attractive anymore. He can register that they're pretty, intellectually, but it doesn't affect him at all. Even when he wants it to.

He meets a few girls, he's polite and not pushy and he lets them talk about themselves as much as they want. They require minimal prodding, and he honestly couldn't care less what they had to say. Unless they're talking about Lily, of course. He meets a few of Lily's roommates, a few other girls, they're nice enough to him. But they're never going to be important to him. He's never going to see them clearly.

Someone named Bertram Aubrey is mentioned in HBP, James and Sirius inflated her head to twice its normal size.

Severus meets her, takes her to Hogsmeade. Doesn't feel a thing except discomfort. He doesn't want to be here with her, and he doesn't want her to think he does. He's polite, but blunt. She says, "I had fun, we should do that again some time."

He meets her hopeful eyes with an apologetic shake, "We won't."

* * *

He invents a few spells to pass the time, uses them on people he doesn't particularly enjoy. _Levicorpus_ (an upward flick. The countercurse is _liberacorpus._ He has to create this spell earlier. Fourth or Fifth year?), a hex that caused toenails to grow alarmingly fast, a jinx that glued the tongue to the roof of the mouth. _Muffliato_. It filled the ears of anyone nearby with an unidentifiable buzzing, so that lengthy conversations could be held in class without being overheard.

He's in Herbology conquering gnarled Snargaluff stumps with Remus and Peter, since Lily and James and Sirius had formed another team. They treat him casually, which he is thankful for. He does his business in a quick and efficient manner, writes his report and leaves.

He helps Pomona Sprout-who is their young, dumpy new Herbology teacher-pick fluxweed a time or two, pockets some of it. You have to pick it at the full moon for it to work, and it's incredibly expensive to grow. Once dried properly, it could store for ten years or more before losing its efficacy.

It wasn't used in many potions, but it couldn't hurt to start stocking up on rare potion ingredients.

Before I left to pick fluxweed that night, I stopped James outside the Great Hall. "Potter, I'm going to be picking fluxweed behind greenhouse number 4."

"Why are you telling me? I don't really care, Snape, I've got a lot on my mind and-" he looked irritated about something.

"Fluxweed is only harvested at the full moon; do you understand? I'm telling you to keep a careful eye on your friends tonight, Potter. I'll be out in the grounds, if any of your friends should want to _play_ with me..."

Potter's eyes widened, and he gaped stupidly for a moment, but recovered, "I don't know what you're talking about, you must be mistaken."

"I'm not mistaken. Just keep your friends away from me tonight. I won't ask again. I'll have a wand on me, and I won't be shooting stunners."

Potter shrugs. "Whatever, Snape. I don't know what you're on about, but you'd better not go around spreading rumors about anything." He kept his face impressively neutral.

"Rumors? I've known since third year: Have you heard any rumors yet? But if you don't keep him locked up tonight, the only rumor that'll be spoken of tomorrow is how on earth four Hogwarts students died outside greenhouse number 4. Any other night of the month, I wouldn't care. He's relatively harmless. But he's _not_ harmless tonight. So keep a close watch on him, and don't go wandering anywhere you're not supposed to be. Lily would be sad if anything happened to you."

Potter glared for a frosty moment, and then turned on his heel and stomped away.

Later, I heard howling in the distance. Relax, Remus. You have friends, and they're with you. I just hope you don't get out...Lily would not be pleased if you all died tonight. She cares for all of you, and I care for her.

Fluxweed is one of the ingredients in Polyjuice Potion, which he brews next chapter.

* * *

A 7th-year Slytherin named Urquhart bothers him a lot, he isn't sure why. So he tests his new spells on him. Silently, he never catches him at it but he knows anyway.

Golpalott's Laws, first second and third. Ridiculously easy, as mentioned in canon.

He brews tons upon tons of _Euphoria_, adding just a sprig of peppermint to counteract the occasional side effects of excessive singing and nose-tweaking. He drinks it like coffee, it takes an hour to brew. Makes it on Sundays, drinks it all week. Just to get through the day. Sunshine yellow potion. Rolls out of bed, drinks down a flask. It keeps him from losing any efficiency.

Efficiency. That's what it boils down to; not fixing anything, because there's nothing to fix. There's only managing the effects, doing whatever he can to deal with the fallout of his fixation.


	11. Anyone

((This is another half-sorted chapter. Please don't hurt yourself while you're cringing.))

* * *

Chapter 10

* * *

_Everyone Assumed We'd Be Together In The End. . .Ask Anyone, They'll Tell You. That Just Goes To Show; You Can't Trust Anyone._

* * *

Severus still drinks Euphoria every morning, and at lunchtime.

James finds out about it next year, perhaps.

James and Lily announce that they're a couple right before Summer Hols before 7th year, Severus deals with it the only way he can. But he remembers everything. All the times he'd comforted Lily when James was so cruel to her. And still... still she forgave him.

Well, he forgave Lily for much more pain than that. Perhaps that was the power that love gave you.

Lily, in love with Potter?

That was tragic.

He watches her with him, listens to them. His inner monologue replays their words from years ago.

"I love you, Lily. I would never hurt you."

_James hexes her, causing painful boils on her feet. She couldn't walk without crying for nearly a week._

"You're so funny/kind/generous/wonderful, James!"

_Lily swearing that she'll hire a hitwizard to kill James Potter as soon as she has the money. Severus offers to pay half._

"I always knew there was something special about you. You were always amazing."

_James and his friends laughing at Lily, calling her names. Calling her a freak. Watching her fail at some spell or another, saying maybe she's a squib._

_Lily crying..._

_James laughing..._

_Lily bleeding..._

_James laughing..._

Unforgivable.

* * *

She asks if he'll be around during the break, he shrugs. He's going to be pretty busy working for the apothecary in _. Owner's named Bobbin. He's promised me a job over the summer, and I might be able to start my apprenticeship after I (graduate in British?) from Hogwarts.

That's great, Sev! I'm proud of you! She beams at him proudly, joking that she'll be borrowing money from him soon enough. Little does she know that she wouldn't even have to ask.

She promises that she'll see him before they come back to Hogwarts. They'll all have to hang out. She's determined to make them all get along, and it's just not going to work. He hates James, he hates his friends. He hates them for what they did to Lily, and Lily is the one trying to get him to like them. Ironic.

James agrees quickly, saying they'd planned on hosting a party towards the end of the Summer Hols and he was welcome to come.

His friends all look at him with loaded stares, he shrugs helplessly. Severus meets James's eyes and smiles tightly. He hears James's thoughts. James is worried sick that Severus do something to ruin their party, like _actually showing up_. He has to make an effort, of course, but Sev makes it SO damn difficult... But Lily likes him, and we have to make an effort or she'll fight with me over it again...

He looks at Lily, listens to her thoughts. She knows damn well that James's friends are staring at him like he's mad. She wishes they could get along with Sev like she did. Wishes Sev could just be nicer to them.

_Being nice to them would require forgiving them, and I'll never forgive them for what they did to you. Even if you forgave them already, I'll hate them forever. For you._

_"The weak can never forgive. Forgiveness is an attribute of the strong." Gandhi said that._

_I'm not as strong as you think I am, Lily..._

He shrugs noncommittally, says he'll probably be working. He'll try to get the time off, but it's not good to take time off at an internship. It could cost him a shot at an apprenticeship. But he's sure there will be other times for them to meet. Lily agrees, sounds hopeful.

He doesn't miss how the boys shoulders all drop in relief. Did they think him blind and stupid?

* * *

She doesn't visit him once during the Hols. She was with _him_, and the days slipped by whenever _he_ was around. She never thought about me unless I was in front of her. It pissed him off SO much, that she could not only forget how much of a bastard James was, but that she could forget how steady and consistent he had always been.

He comes home on time after work for the first week and waits around for her to show up unannounced, but she doesn't. He waits for an owl, or a firecall, or anything at all.

He's laying against a tree in his thicket, hidden from the world and trying his best not to listen for a rustling footstep. It saddens him more than he expected when the sun sets again, and nobody has come.

So he basically sleeps and works at the apothecary after that. The less time he spends at home, the better he can rationalize that he just wasn't there when she stopped by. Of course she'd stop by...

Go into detail about the holiday, his plans.

* * *

Back on the train, she looks a bit sheepish. James looks relieved. Sorry, Sev. I wanted to come over, but something always came up.

It's okay, Lily. Sev smiles widely, hearing through her thoughts that she totally forgot about him until she remembered she was going to meet him on the train two days ago. She felt awful about it now, and vowed to make it up to him somehow.

He just felt bad that she felt she needed to lie to him. As if the truth could somehow hurt him more. And of course, he hated how easily she could pretend he didn't exist when he wasn't in front of her.

If only he possessed the same blessed ability... If only he could forget about Lily when she was out of sight...

But it was impossible; if his life were a night sky, she would be the moon. The single most noticeable thing, the brightest and most beautiful part of his life.

She was impossible to ignore, impossible to forget. How could I forget the moon, after all?

And yet she'd forgotten him. How dim, how inconspicuous he must be in _her_ night sky, faded into a million other nameless pinpricks of light, feeble and inconsequential. . . .

I was too busy at the apothecary, anyway. Worked more than I expected. (seven days a week, sixteen to twenty hours a day, not that he'd tell her. He very nearly lost his shot at an apprenticeship due to _over_work, his boss ordered him to go home a few times. Said he didn't want him to make mistakes due to sleep deprivation.) It's lucky for me, because he guaranteed me an apprenticeship after I (graduate).

Congrats!

He keeps changing the subject to keep her from thinking or talking about not meeting him over the summer. He won't hear it. Keeps insisting that it was just fine. James looks incredibly relieved now, he was worried that there'd be a fight or something.

James tries to thank him on their way up to the castle. "Thanks for not making a big deal out of it. Lily really did want to see you this Summer, she just had a lot of family stuff to deal with..." his smile is genuinely relieved.

"She completely forgot about me until she started packing, Potter."

James's eyes go wide. "That's not-"

"Shut up. I knew it would happen like that before we even went home for the Summer. I wish I could say it was all your fault, but I know Lily better than that. I just wish she didn't feel like she had to lie to me. She doesn't have to lie to me for any reason. And I'll stun you and leave you in the carriage if you open your mouth again. I don't need you to defend her-not to me, not ever. She does not require a defense. So keep quiet."

James snapped his mouth shut, thankfully, but he kept staring at me on the carriage ride.

* * *

Back at Hogwarts, go over how he distracts himself, now that Lily spends so much time with James and so little time with him. Potions, Dark Arts, new spells he makes and learns, More Potions, Quidditch, Working Out...

He starts brewing Polyjuice Potion in his trunk. A mad idea, of course. But he wondered if he wasn't starting to go just a bit mad.

He met a few girls last chapter, some of Lily's friends, even. They thought he was in a relationship with Lily, just liked to keep it quiet. But now that she's dating Potter, they want to date him. Quite a few girls, five or six at least.

He smiles at all of them, says of course he'd sit and chat with them. He chats with them once, keeps the conversation on them, and then says thanks, but I'm not interested in pursuing a relationship with them right now.

He had to keep up appearances, after all.

Lily asks him about his dates every once in a while, when it's someone she knows. He smiles, shrugs, says they didn't connect.

Potter tries to include him in their circle more often, invites him to sit with them at lunch every so often.

"Why, Potter?"

"Because Lily asked me to," he answered honestly. Perhaps he'd taken my words on the carriage seriously. "She'd like to sit with all of us, and she doesn't want to have to choose between us. Because if she has to choose..."

"I know. She'll choose you." The thought twisted my stomach painfully. "I just wish I knew why she wants to see me so badly now that we're back at school."

"I wish I knew that, too, Snape," Potter muttered.

I nodded, affecting a small smile that didn't express anything I wanted to say at the moment, and went to the table with them. Lily's eyes lit up like it was Christmastime.

It just wasn't fair. How could she pretend that I meant so much to her now, after she'd forgotten me all summer? She was happy without me, she was happy with me. Always the same, with or without me. Me, however...

Why did she have to keep pulling at me, tugging at the threads of my sanity? Why couldn't she just let me eat in peace, away from her stunning features and her brilliant eyes?

By dessert, she'd noticed that I wasn't looking at her at all. Noticed that I hadn't said a word after a brief greeting. "All right, Sev?"

"I'm fine, Lily," I said, spooning more treacle tart onto my plate.

"Really?"

"Of course."

"Look at me, Sev."

I braced myself, and then looked up at her. She was even prettier than she'd been last year. My heart hammered in my chest as I looked at her.

She stared into my eyes curiously, innocently, and it was all I could do to clutch at my veneer of calmness. It was like trying to hold my breath. After several tense seconds, I felt the pressure in my head start rising dramatically, like I was twenty feet under water and running out of air.

I struggled to remain still as panic surged. My heart was pounding so loud, it was a wonder she wasn't shouting over it.

"I'm fine, Lily. Just tired, is all," I murmured. Measured, even words. She searched my face with those beautiful eyes of hers, but didn't find any trace of deceit.

I was getting better at lying to her, then.

It hurt to look at her for any length of time. She was simply too beautiful for my eye now. . .now that she was dating Potter.

So women really did grow more beautiful when they were in love.

That migraine wouldn't be pleasant at all.

None of them are like Lily. None of them have the spark that captivated me so long ago. I wonder just what it is I really wanted from her, and why I can't find it in anyone else.

As I'm about to say that I'm finished, so that I can leave this table and its unfolding tragedy, James whispers something to Lily and she turns and smiles at him. And I have _never_ seen her smile like this. Like dawn breaking over a misty moor. She looked so impossibly happy. . .was that Potter's doing? Did he really make her that happy?

That incredible, breathtaking smile that she'd never once turned on me. . .that was what made up my mind.

* * *

I finished brewing the polyjuice potion, waited until Potter came back after Quidditch practice. He always takes too long in the shower, his mates leave to go to dinner without him.

I'd been studying Potter for years, since I had to know my enemies, and I'd been studying him far more closely since Lily started dating him. His habits, his word usage, his mannerisms and affectations. . .the things he spoke of, the way he held himself. . .there were many nonverbal and verbal mistakes that I could make. And this would have to go perfectly.

Potter came out of the shower with his towel around his waist, a confused look on his face. "Snape? What're you doing?" Noticed the open trunk and the cauldron. "Brewing more _Euphoria_? You could get in a lot of trouble if the professors knew how much of that you drank in a week-" I stunned him, levitating him onto his bed and pulling the covers up over him.

With a sharp tug, I pulled out a few of the hairs I'd been planning to use for this. James Potter's thick, black hair. The potion turns a clear, bright gold. I flushed with anticipation.

I went to the bathroom mirror and drank it down, staring clinically at my changing reflection in the mirror.

"My name is. . .James Potter," the voice of the man I hated the most resonated in the silent bathroom. I sounded just like _him._

"My best friend is Sirius Black, and my girlfriend is. . .is Lily Evans. . .and the thing she loves the very most about me. . .is. . .my lopsided smile. . . ." I pulled the corner of my mouth up, contorting my face until it looked like James smiling back at me.

It twisted my heart so hard that I winced. Strange.

I expected to feel elation, a precursor to the affection I was sure to feel from Lily, at long last. _All I'd have to do was go downstairs, sit at the seat that his mates always saved for him, lean against Lily and steal a kiss. I'd never seen them kiss before, but it would be natural, wouldn't it? That's what I'd wanted all this time, wasn't it?_

_But instead. . ._

_I felt so. . .dirty. So wrong. No. Not like this. . .I can't. . .Not even once, can I put my happiness first. Not for one goddamn moment. It's not fair. . ._I locked myself in the bathroom for the whole hour, clutching at my face and crying uselessly. Pathetic.

* * *

After the hour's up, he still won't come out of the bathroom. James comes to his senses, sees the still- open trunk and the strange brew simmering away in there, sees the locked door. Pounds on it. "Snape! Did you just stun me, you twat?"

Severus is still weak from crying. He wipes his face, hopes that Potter will beat the shit out of him again. He really wants to get hurt for doing this, for thinking of betraying Lily like this. For very nearly going through with it.

He opens the door, glares at Potter. He's even angrier at him now. His voice is so hoarse from crying that even his breathing is raspy.

Potter sees how puffy his eyes are, just knows that he's been crying in there. His face softens. "What's wrong?"

Snape doesn't want his goddamn pity! "If there even _was_ something wrong, it'd certainly be none of your business. I'm not your friend, Potter. I stunned you for being a nosey berk, and I'll do it again if you keep asking me stupid questions that you've got no right to ask!"

He stands there, defiant and rigid, waiting for James to hit him. _Go on...do it. Hurt me. Please. Maybe I'll lose my other eye this time, so I'll never have to watch Lily smile like that at you again._

After a long minute, James shakes his head. "You're right. Look, I won't tell anyone, okay? Merlin knows how much trouble I'd be in if the professors would be if they knew even half the things I got up to... It'd be awfully hypocritical of me to nose in on your business when you've kept your nose out of mine for so long, wouldn't it?"

He smiled at me just then, that lopsided grin that Lily loved so much...

I hated it. Hated _him_.

I hated him so much that it took my breath away.

I couldn't even count on Potter anymore! I stomped over to my bed, _evanesco'd_ the Polyjuice Potion and pulled my curtains closed, setting them with my imperturbable charms.

I had never wanted to feel agony more acutely than at that moment. I'd wanted Potter to beat this nonsense out of me, but when he wouldn't, I had relied on my migraine to punish me for my disloyalty.

There wasn't so much as a pinch that night. Not an ounce of pain, even though I so dearly deserved it...

Potter's mates came back up a half hour later, and I hadn't moved from my spot.

"Leave him alone, guys."

"What's gotten into you? Have you gone soft on Snape, then?"

"It's not that, okay? Look, I don't know what's happened, I just think he's going through a rough time right now...let's just ease off of him. He lives with us, he's kept Remus's 'furry little secret,' and he _is_ Lily's best friend, you know...it'd be a lot easier on me if we just left him alone for a while."

"Well, if you say so, James..."

Damn you, Potter. You won't allow me a single respite from my self-loathing. I'd've even let Black have a go at me. He can hit harder, but he got winded more easily than you ever did.

It was going to be another long night...

James and the Marauders, who are his dormmates, pester him with questions about the girls he dates. Only ever sits with them that once. After that night, though, they're a lot less antagonistic to him when James is around. It doesn't escape his attention.

He doesn't kiss anyone else, he doesn't get to any base at all. Those women are colorless, tasteless... He doesn't understand. It frustrates him, and it captivates him at the same time.

Every other woman in the world is blurry to him. As blurry as the entire world was until the day he met Lily Evans. How strange.

He knows that he should be moving on, but he just doesn't know how.

He's forgotten how _not_ to love Lily Evans.

He's _damned_.


	12. Mask

((Really short, super rough chapter. I was intending to flesh out his new frame in this chapter. Failed again.))

* * *

Chapter 11

* * *

_It's Not Like I'm Wearing A Mask, Really... It's More Like I've Cut Off My Face. Metaphorically Speaking, Of Course._

* * *

Having reached the age of majority at long last, I disowned myself from my family immediately and cut myself off from them. I haven't yet received a letter from either of my parents begging me to come back, and I'm quite thankful for that. I've had quite enough of those two for one lifetime.

After graduating from Hogwarts at the end of the year, I'll be well and truly on my own. I've been accepted for an apprenticeship at a respected apothecarist's, and the stipend from that will allow me to rent a small flat near (Where Lily's got a job lined up. He wants to be less than one mile from her). Westchester or something? Hrm.

He eats, sometimes hears Lily or Potter calling to him at mealtimes or in classes or studying. He looks up, and feels his stomach clench whenever he meets her eyes. He tries his hardest not to look at her too often, but he can't help himself. He's in too many of her classes, anyway. He always sits in the front on either the far right or left so he won't have to see her red hair. He can't look away whenever she's within his field of vision.

He loses his appetite whenever he sees her. He tries to eat super-early or super-late, just so he won't have to suffer through another invite to eat with people who don't want him there. Nobody but Lily wants him there, and Severus wishes more than anything that she was a bit more like Potter in that regard.

"Sev! It seems like it's been ages since we sat together at lunch!" _13 days, Lily. 13 days since my last lunch with you and your boyfriend._

Remus tries to talk to him once, about what's been going on. Small talk to start, then he asks if I'm doing okay. Of course I'm doing okay. Why wouldn't I? No reason, Lupin hedges, it's just that you seem... out of place lately. Like you're not really sure where you are anymore. I know we must seem cruel to you, after so many years, but James isn't the only one who's changed. I just wish you would let us be your friends. Lily still cares a lot about you, and we want to know you like she does.

If Remus could've said anything that was more frightening, I couldn't have imagined it. Nobody would EVER know me like Lily did. I would never invest that much of myself in anyone, because I didn't have anything left to invest. I'd already given it all away, and it had been rotting in the bin ever since.

Severus says something to Remus that gets his hackles up, Remus backpedals, tries again, Severus goes in for the kill. Remus's back stiffens, his jaw tightens, he turns and stomps out of the dormitory.

I didn't want friends. Especially Marauder friends. I just wanted to suffer alone. (Something like that, but more pithy.)

* * *

He drank _Euphoria_ through the whole year, through the whole of last year, too. It hardly works at all now. At the end of the chapter, he decides that he'll only use it when he has to see her. When he's alone, he won't use _Euphoria_ at all. He wants it to hurt. He wants to feel that pain all the time, now. He wants to suffer, to ache for her every second. It's the cost of loving Lily Evans.

He wants to feel the pain because he can't feel anything else. When he drinks _Euphoria_, he just goes numb. He can still smile and laugh, but it's all so mechanical, he wonders why nobody has noticed.

Surely he wasn't so good a liar.

This chapter is about the dichotomy of Severus Snape. How his feelings and his life branch out in two opposite directions now. How much that hurts, and how he doesn't care how much it hurts, so long as Lily Evans is happy.

Chapter ends after graduation. _James_ and his friends and Lily are having a party in Hogsmeade that night, at the Three Broomsticks. He's invited, of course.

He shows up after drinking a double-dose of Euphoria, with a large hip flask on him just in case. It left the inside of his mouth feeling like it was coated in clay.

He managed to last two hours before his hip flask ran out, and after watching Lily laughing for a full half hour beyond that before he felt his migraine start to pinch. He excused himself, saying he had to be up early tomorrow. Truthfully, he'd more likely be up all night screaming.

As he left, he allowed himself a satisfied nod. He took that better than he expected.

He's walking back to his dormitory afterward.

_The last night I'll ever spend around Marauders. The last night I'll ever have to suffer their presence unwillingly._

_The last night I'll ever sleep under the same roof as Lily Evans. That much, at least, I will miss._

_My entire life is a lie. A lie I must become better at telling every single day. A lie that allows Lily Evans to be happy._

They're graduating, heading out into the cheering throng. He can see the Potters and the Evanses, congratulating each other and staring proudly at their progeny. He didn't even bother looking around for his parents.

The cheering continues, the mob moves to the Great Hall. The chattering students and the relieved faculty buzzing around him.

_So I tell her that I'm happy for her, and that Potter is wonderful, and I sit with them and smile and tell them all how glad I am that they've found some happiness in life. I tell them that I'm happy to be her friend, that she's a great friend to me._

They're pulling their trunks down to the Hogwarts Express platform, sighing gratefully and promising to keep in touch. Severus gets pulled into the compartment with the Marauders, and his smile only twitches a bit.

_I tell her that I'm interested in a few girls, I tell her that I'm happy to be alive. I tell her that I'm keeping busy, that I meet with friends, that I laugh and hug and smile._

They're departing the Hogwarts Express, going their separate ways. Lily pulls him into a hug, and he goes rigid. She pats him on the shoulder and spins around, rushing off to find James again.

_I tell her that I love my life._

He stands there, staring after her fleeing figure long after it has disappeared into the throng. Only then, ever so slowly, does his smile finally crack.

_That's my story. The story of Severus Snape. And I'll tell it until the day I die._


	13. Bleed

((Okay, stop skipping! This is the chapter I worked on the most. Didn't bother researching, so ignore the underlines. More than half of the time I've spent writing this story was on this chapter alone, after the first bit. It was so incredibly hard to write, but I'm as satisfied as I'll ever be with the feel of it.))

* * *

Chapter 12

* * *

_How Much Do I Have To Bleed Before You'll Finally Be Satisfied? Take As Much As You Want. Cut Out My Heart And Squeeze Me Dry. Take Everything I Have._

* * *

After graduating from Hogwarts, Lily starts renting a flat near downtown _(City east of where they grew up. Westchester? What is it?) and working at her uncle's _ shop.

James is always over there with his friends, since they live at his place and his parents live there with them. She comes over to meet his parents, but they prefer the privacy of her flat.

After five months, I had already saved up enough to start making payments on a small cottage on the hill at (someplace close to Lily). It was old and moldy, and it hadn't been lived in for fifty years. It was the only property on the entire hill. It looked lonely up there, and immediately caught my eye. I bought it for knuts on the galleon and began fixing it up.

It didn't take long, when it was the only thing other than my mind- numbingly boring apprenticeship making the same potions day in and day out. I had it tidied up and emptied out within the month, in the cheap, sparsely decorated style I was comfortable with. A bed, a dresser, a dinner table, two chairs, a sofa and a recliner with a low table between them. A pair of dishes and utensils, a cutting knife and a can opener. Towels and sheets. A wood stove. Other than food and potions supplies, there was precious little else I needed.

* * *

Nine months after Hogwarts, she and Potter had a fight. A fight about her wanting him to treat her better. He was always out with the boys, doing things with them, she wanted him to pay more attention to him. She wanted him to make her feel more special, "like Severus did."

James went spare at that. He was absolutely livid, said some horrible things about me. They were all true, of course. James went to Sirius's and she showed up at my doorstep in tears. She'd made me give her my address when I bought the place.

I was surprised and incredibly pleased, of course, as she'd never been to my house before, but I wasn't prepared to see her just yet. Emotionally, physically or architecturally.

"Aren't you going to invite me in?" her tear-streaked face was straining to smile at her weak joke.

"Oh! Right, sorry. Give me a moment, just need to tidy up a bit. . ." I smiled weakly at the thought of her in my house. I wasn't ready for this.

She pushed through the door, smirking. "Oh come on, Sev, I've seen the way you keep your dormitory, you probably straighten your books with a ruler. . ."

I'd torn the place apart during a terrible migraine I'd had a week ago after visiting Lily at her flat, and I hadn't worked up the willpower to put it all back together again yet. She always seemed to want to see me right after I'd cleaned. So why bother cleaning, when the next day she'd inevitably invite me over and bring on another migraine? I had become complacent in repairing my house, and now I regretted it.

I watched with growing dread as she surveyed the damage. It was rather extensive. My migraine had lasted a day and a half straight, after all. I was fortunate, at least, that they hadn't had their fight during my rampage. I had been quite a mess.

"What happened here, Sev? For some reason, seeing this place so. . .it makes me feel really uneasy. . .Are you okay? You'd tell me if you weren't okay, right?"

_Well I wouldn't worry about the damage, I'll be doing even more just as soon as you leave me again._ "It's fine, Lily. Just a thief after some potion supplies. I caught him in the act, so he didn't get away with anything, but he was rather. . .liberal, with his curses." Lying was so easy now. . ."Please, sit down. Can I get you some tea?"

She scowled, suddenly remembering the reason she'd come here in the first place. "No, thank you. No tea tonight. D'you have anything stronger?"

My eyes widened. "Stronger, like bubotuber pus stronger? Or stronger like Ogden's finest?"

She wrinkled her nose. "I wouldn't say no to some Ogden's. It's been a rough night. Besides, it's probably what James is drinking."

I nodded curtly, turning around to busy myself with the glasses so she wouldn't see the genuine look of concern on my face. What had happened? If Potter had done something to her... Well, at least this meant that he hadn't gone and gotten her pregnant—she wouldn't be drinking hard alcohol.

_Is that the best silver lining I can find? Sweet, merciful Merlin..._

At least I had something decent to offer her. I'd found that Ogden's eighteen-year private reserve, which was finished in port wood barrels, was far more to my liking than the cheaper six month oak-finished that most were satisfied with. Six-month was far too peaty and coarse, and the oak finish left a lingering aftertaste of resin. Disgusting. Hardly worth the effort of drinking.

My expensive tastes had been genetically ensured by my worthless father, no doubt. I took a strange measure of pride in knowing that Lily definitely would _not_ be drinking the same thing as Potter tonight; she'd be drinking something at least ten times as expensive. Nothing but the best for Lily Evans, after all.

I schooled my mouth back into a workable imitation of a smile and turned again, bringing a tray over to the sitting table and placing it between us. I'd brought over a small bucket of ice and a full fifth of Ogden's, instead of the nearly-empty bottle that I'd been working on for the last month. I had a feeling we would need it, and I'd need more after she left.

She knocked back her entire glass in one go. My eyes widened, and then I nodded. Grabbing my own glass, I drank it down straight and slammed the glass back down on the table. I'd never gulped alcohol so quickly, but I'd never live it down if Lily Evans outdrank me. I had an alcoholic father, for Merlin's sake, and although I never drank more than a few ounces at a time, I drank nearly every night. It wasn't _Euphoria_, it didn't make me happy, it just helped me take the edge off of the gaping, ragged hole in my chest. I hissed as the alcohol burned down my throat and pooled in my stomach, radiating hearthfire warmth clear down to my toes.

Lily poured us another round, giggling at the face I was making, the smoke pouring out of our ears. We drank it straight again, and as she went to pour a third, I snatched the bottle out of her hand. She let out a protesting gasp as I pulled it out of reach. "Hey! It isn't going to drink itself, you know!"

"We'll get right to it, Lily, just as soon as you let me know why you showed up on my doorstep at one in the morning, determined to drink my house dry." I frowned worryingly. "What happened, Lily?"

I tossed two ice cubes into each glass and splashed two fingers of the amber liquid on top of them, deliberately taking small sips of mine. _Like this, Lily. This is how you take an eighteen-year in good company._

Her scowl melted away as tears built up behind her eyes. "He hates me. That's what." She cupped the glass in her hands and stared morosely into it.

I sighed, doing my best to cover the gasp of pain as my heart twisted a full three-hundred-sixty degrees in my chest. Why did she have to torture me? I knew damn well that Potter loved her, it was the only reason I hadn't already slipped him a potion that turned his _in_sides into _out_sides.

This was just a lover's tiff, and the fact that I so readily associated it with the word 'lover' made my heart squeeze again. But if Potter really hated her. . .if only it were true. . ."That's so melodramatic, Lily; take a breath and tell me what the pillock's done this time."

She sipped at her glass, filling me in on the latest in their turbulent relationship. He never spent enough time with her, his attention was always on someone or something else, he just expected her to tag along everywhere, she had her own things she wanted to do sometimes, and he never went along with it!

My face darkened as she told me what he said to her in response. I gripped my glass tightly, wondering again how on earth she could love someone like that, but not love me. What on earth had she been looking for, if she got mad at James Potter for being exactly who he had been all along? He never claimed to care more about her than he did about himself, never claimed that he would put her first. I had no idea why she expected that to change.

But my objections were worthless. Worse than that, I would seem incredibly insincere if I told her she should choose me, instead. She wasn't telling me this because she was looking for a replacement model, after all. So I just listened and pretended I didn't have a ready-made solution that would solve the problem of her fiancée not spending enough time focused on her.

She was all I ever focused on, after all.

We drank and spoke for over two hours, and I nodded sympathetically as she poured her heart out to me. Her wants and desires, her wishes, her hopes and dreams. . .These secrets, _her_ secrets, were the most precious things she gave me. I cherished them all, every single piece she would share of her heart.

It pleased me immensely that she was still willing to confide in me, still willing to share herself with me when I was becoming so distant. It wasn't her fault, really, that I couldn't manage my own mind better.

I wished I hadn't gotten caught up in matching her drink for drink. I was as drunk as I'd been in years, and my head spun as I stood to drop our glasses off in the sink.

Her voice was strained when she spoke, "It makes me so sad when we fight like this. . .I just want to forget that it ever happened."

"No," I said quietly, staring down at the glasses I was wiping clean, "never forget your sadness. Cherish this pain, Lily. It's proof that you care."

She stared at me for a long while, weighing her words as carefully as her intoxicated mind could manage. "He talks about you sometimes, you know. When we fight."

I twisted my sadness into the best smile I could manage, setting the glasses aside and sitting across from her again. "I know."

"He said the most awful things about you tonight."

"I know, Lily. Please, don't." _Don't tell me how much he notices while you remain blissfully unaware. Don't tell me how he knows me better than you do._

"He says you're a liar. He says you're not as sweet as I think you are. He says you're nothing special, that you're just like any other bloke. He keeps asking me if I _understand_ what he's _saying_, like I'm some child. . ." She stuck her lip out petulantly.

She wasn't listening to me, so I gave up and went along with it. "What, I'm not just like any other bloke?"

She smiled rapturously, shaking her head with vigor, "Oh, no. You're so different! You're a saint, Sev! You're like a monk with a wand, you're not like those dirty boys who are only interested in a girl's knickers. You've got icewater in your trousers."

"Icewater in my. . .What? Lily, how much've you had to drink?"

"Hey! Don't change the subject! Anyway, James keeps telling me not to hang around you so much, so you don't get the wrong impression. He says he doesn't want his fiancee meeting with some randy bloke behind his back. I stuck up for you, though. I got really mad at him, and told him that you were just a friend, my _very oldest and bestest _friend, and you were the very furthest thing from some randy bloke. The thought of you being randy at all is so weird! I mean. . .you're Sev!"

My heart twisted as a lance of pain pierced it, tearing at the ragged hole until it split in half. My chest crumpled inward at the unexpected magnitude of it. I hadn't expected that to hurt so badly.

Why did this feel so much worse than usual? She'd said incredibly callous and hurtful things to me before. . .But she honestly thought I didn't have natural male urges? She honestly believed that I'd never wondered what it'd be like to have a physical relationship that matched the depth of our emotional one?

My thoughts reached their conclusion quickly, and it snatched my breath away: It wasn't just that she didn't consider me a good potential match, and didn't consider me worthy of her affection. It went even further than that.

She never once considered me a _man_.

I sucked in a sharp breath and screwed my eyes shut for a heartbeat as that thought hit me squarely between the eyes with all the force of a banished brick.

Lily continued without pausing, I was thankful that she hadn't heard my gasp of pain. "He started laughing really hard when I told him all that, and so I hexed him, and then he got really mad that I kept sticking up for you, and he left. So we're in a fight. _Nobody_ talks about my Sev like that!"

She beamed at me drunkenly, proud of her loyalty.

So proud of her pet eunuch. . .

_It was a mistake to let her come here. . .to let her sit in my chair and thumb through my books and drink my firewhiskey. . . ._

_It was a mistake to let her make one hundred new memories in my house that I'll never be able to erase. . .one hundred more cuts on my heart that won't heal any better than the last million. . . ._

"You're drunk, Lily. Let's get you home." I focused very hard on keeping my breathing level and steady as the pain ate away at my insides.

She could be so cruel to me, and she never knew, because I never told her when she hurt me.

And I never would. No matter how bad she hurt me, I'd never let her know. Because that would cause her pain, and I swore that I'd never hurt her again, no matter the cost.

"Hey! I'm fine, I want to stay and talk with you!"

"It's getting late, we don't want James to worry about you, do we?"

"But. . ."

"Please. I don't want to cause any more trouble between you and James, and he will be angry with me if you're over here too late. Especially if we've been drinking. Wouldn't want him to get the wrong idea about me, right?" I was proud of the fact that I didn't even stumble over his name anymore. It had taken months of practice.

She worked her mouth for several achingly long seconds, searching for an easy excuse, but huffed irritably instead. "Fine!" She stood and stumbled over to the fireplace, feeling each thing on the mantlepiece. She was too drunk to remember which jar I kept the floo powder in? That was a recipe for disaster. . .

"No, Lily. I'll side-along you."

"Side-along? I'll sick up if you do that. Let's just walk. It's only a mile or two, and it's a nice enough night for it."

I hesitated, but she pouted. "Pleeeease, Sev. . .I don't wanna go through the rubber band. . ." Her emerald eyes were pleading.

I relented with a small smile. She was still so childlike in ways. It was one of the many things I still adored about her. "Okay, let's get you home."

She grabbed my hand, which shocked me just a bit, but I gripped it back softly. I was just heaping more abuse on myself, as this would inevitably make my migraine worse when I finally let it loose, but I didn't care. Even though the sensation of her hand in mine was so keen that it burned, I couldn't possibly have let go.

This was Lily Evans, and I'd take every sip of her that she offered, even if it was poison.

She wanted to ride on my back once we were outside in the cool night air, and I sighed long- sufferingly. "Alright, just this once. And you can't tell James about this, he'll be furious."

"Psh. James can go swallow a goose! Oomph!"

She hopped on, and I staggered for a second trying to find my balance. I hooked my arms under her legs, trying to hold her steady as she squirmed around, trying to find the most comfortable position. Her arms came over my shoulders, hanging loosely around my neck.

I'd never actually done this before; it was entirely novel and far more intimate than I'd wanted it to be.

I would pay dearly for this.

"Am I too heavy?" She whispered, her mouth worryingly close to my ear. Her breath blew moist and warm on my cheek, igniting my senses. I straightened and did my best to ignore the incredible warmth her body was bleeding into me.

It always surprised me, when I touched another human being. They were all so warm. . .And Lily Evans was surely the warmest of them. How on earth could her hands be so cold while the rest of her stayed furnace-temperature? It heated me so quickly that I worried I'd start sweating.

"Not at all, Lily." I started walking, calm and deliberate, and she sighed against my back in relief. I tried hard not to think of the very distracting way her breasts mashed against me. They were a lot softer than I'd imagined. . .

After a minute of silence, I thought she was asleep. She surprised me by suddenly speaking in a quiet, melancholy voice. "When did your back get so wide, Sev? One minute you were that short, skinny boy in the smock, and then I blinked and you'd grown up. . .it still amazes me. . .

"And I feel so safe and warm, just knowing that I'm with you and you'll never let anything hurt me. . .Thank you, Sev. I know I'm not always as good a friend as I should be, but you really do mean a lot to me. You've always been there when I needed you, and I promise, I'll be there whenever you need me. I won't let anything hurt you."

Tears were blinding me, and incredibly, I could feel my heart breaking yet again. I hadn't imagined that it could break into pieces any smaller than it already had tonight.

She wanted to protect me? She wanted to keep me from being hurt by anything?

The only thing that could hurt me now—and indeed had _ever_ been able to truly hurt me-was her.

My good eye welled with tears, and I begged them not to flow over. Not when those tears would be an inch and a half away from Lily's eyes. Even _she_, the perpetually oblivious, couldn't miss something so blatant.

Why was she saying all of this? Why now?

"Hush now, Lily. I told you, didn't I? You don't need to be there, you don't need to do anything for me. Just be happy, go do everything that puts a smile on your face. That's all I want."

She squeezed her arms tighter around my neck, nearly choking me. The scent of her hair made me stiffen involuntarily; the memories seared my nostrils with their concentrated heat. "That's what I mean, Sev! You always say those stupid, selfless things. Of course I have to be there for you! After everything you've done for me, and after everything I've put you through, you deserve more effort, dammit! I need to owl you more often, and I need to come and see you at least twice a week, and we need to catch up on how life has been. . .I haven't seen you in ages, Sev, and I feel terrible about it. . ."

The thought of seeing Lily twice a week made me euphoric and terrified and sick to my stomach, all at the same time. I wouldn't even be recovered from the last migraine if she sprung another visit on me so soon.

"We'll talk about it later. I'm sure we can work something out that fits into your schedule. I don't want to be a burden, and you've got a lot to do in the next few months. . .remember?"

She snorted, the sound was incredibly loud in my ear. "I'm planning my wedding, I know. I just wish. . .It's what we fought about tonight, actually: I told him that I wished he was more like you."

My heart, which had been steadily crumbling during this painful talk, burned to ashes in a single blazing instant. The ashes dissolved, and I was left with only a sharp, hollow ache where my shattered heart had been.

I stumbled, barely catching myself from tumbling down the grassy slope I was walking across. "Please," I whispered hoarsely, "please don't say such things, Lily. . ." I wanted so badly to scream at the unfairness of it all, and I knew my frustration was starting to boil over.

_You wished that Potter was more like me?_

_That can't possibly be right._

_Because if he was more like me. . .then you would've never considered _him_ a man, either._

As soon as the thought crossed my mind, I felt the fire that had consumed my heart shoot straight up into my brain. I moaned softly as my mind ignited with a concussive blast that shook the edges of my sanity. I hoped she hadn't noticed.

"You always listen and pay attention to me, you make me feel so special. I wish James did that more often. I wish he was a lot more like you, really. You've gotten so strong, you make it look easy to carry me all this way. . .And you're growing your hair out again, I like it. It looks rakish and very handsome on you."

She ran her fingers through my hair, and then they drifted lower, grazing lightly over my forehead, my cheeks, my temples. . .

Her smooth, cold fingers traced along the planes of my face wondrously, like she hadn't done the same thing with Potter a hundred times before. But even that knowledge couldn't take my mind off of how incredibly intimate her touch felt.

I started wondering if this was all just a dream. Lily Evans surely wouldn't be this cruel.

She even covered my eyes and asked, "Guess who?" but laughed so hard at her own joke that she couldn't hold her arms still.

Her hands went back to my hair, pulling at it softly and stroking it smooth again. "You really do have the most wonderful hair, too. I've always thought so. It's so thick and shiny, and it always smells so good." She sniffed approvingly, resting her head on my shoulder and leaning it against mine. I felt her throat moving as she hummed in contentment, and it resonated through my entire body.

I was sucking in ragged, shallow breaths as I tried in vain to put my mind elsewhere. Every silent gasp of air I took built my tears higher behind my eyelids. She was still so overwhelming, and so dangerously close to me. . .I hadn't been this physically close to anyone since I'd danced with her the night of the Yule Ball in 5th year.

_Don't be so nice to me, Lily. I beg you._

_Don't be so warm and soft and smooth. Don't lay against my back and breathe against my ear. Don't touch my face; don't run those cold fingers through my hair. Don't compliment me._

_Because it reminds me of all the reasons I fell in love with you._

_And if I can't at least dull these memories. . .then they'll consume me whole. I won't survive being this close to you when you marry someone else._

My tears were falling fast and hard now, but Lily's eyes must have been closed because she didn't mention it. I wished she'd have rested her head on my other shoulder, since at least that eye didn't have any tear ducts to hint at how incredibly wounded I was.

I could not endure her gentle, oblivious concern. I could not endure her heartfelt compliments and her overwhelming presence and her small, curious hands brushing tenderly across my skin.

But I just couldn't bring myself to stop her. I never could. She was my paradise, and she brought with her the greatest joy I had ever felt. She brought me peace.

And the only reason it hurt me so deeply was because I knew that peace was never mine to keep. I'd known since the day Potter found me in that abandoned classroom, and it had kept me from ever allowing myself to hope for anything more.

But something about tonight—with her breath on my face and her fingers threaded in my hair—made dreams possible.

And I was so damned tired of the truth.

With the alcohol still seething through my veins, I threw aside my carefully constructed safeguards and ventured recklessly out into the one fantasy I'd longed for ever since the day I met Lily Evans in that field so long ago. I threw myself headlong into the only dream that I never dared to dwell on.

I was lost in this fantasy as my footsteps fell, no longer held captive to reason or self-preservation. . .

So I dreamed that Lily Evans loved me.

And in this dream, carrying Lily snugly on my back across the dew-moist grass that led to her flat, I could pretend that life made sense.

I could pretend that Lily cared for me as much as I had always cared for her. With my ashen heart-space so blissfully intoxicated by her presence, I dreamed that we were walking back to _our _home; Back to the place where we lived our lives together, where her touch was electric in ecstasy instead of agony. Not in any hurry, because we had forever to spend between the two of us.

I dreamed of an entire century with Lily Evans at my side. I dreamed of my ring on her finger, our children at her side and in her womb, my heart beating ever-harder inside her chest across the decades; my soul so deeply woven with hers that God himself wouldn't be able to separate them.

A glimpse of true peace; a taste of the future that Potter looked forward to every single day, and took for granted.

Joy, pain, sorrow, regret. . .the elemental composition of Lily Evans. My poison and tonic, conveniently tinctured. I set it to boil over the searing heat of a lifetime of aching desire. Without waiting for it to cool—for it would only get hotter as time went on—I drank it straight to the dregs.

Merlin help me, but it burned. It raged in me until I was nothing but a charred shell. Nothing but a broken, hollow man screaming impatiently for Death to save him.

I got her up the stairs to her flat, trying my best not to jolt her as I unlocked the door and stepped inside. The hallway was wide, thankfully, and I got her to her room without incident.

I gently lowered her onto her bed, folding the other side of her voluminous sheets over her and tucking them under her knees. My mouth was compressed into a thin line as I stared down at her sleeping form, lost in my thoughts.

I had tried to forget her, but it was a doomed effort. I'd known it from the start. I might as well have tried to forget the sun.

She would never be mine. She would never love me. This stolen glimpse was all I'd ever see of peace.

Well if I was to be damned, then I'd not suffer half-measures. I would lose myself fully in the madness of this night.

"Goodnight, Lily." I leaned down and brushed her hair back from her face, tucking it behind her ear. _I love you._

She let out a quiet sigh, burrowing the back of her head further into her pillows as her smile widened. Those perfectly symmetrical lips that stretched across my dreams. Lips that seemed to glow in the reflected moonlight coming through the high window of her room.

I couldn't stop staring at her lips. I'd never kissed anyone before, not in my entire life. I'd wanted to kiss Lily Evans since before we attended Hogwarts, even before I knew about puberty and hormones. The urge had only gotten stronger as the years went by, as we grew closer.

And even though she loved Potter, and would marry him in a few short months. . .I would not stop wanting to hold her, wanting to kiss her.

I would never stop loving her.

_I'm not selfish enough to wish for us to be together, Lily. I'm not even selfish enough to hope that your marriage fails._

_I want you to be happy; so if marrying Potter will make you the happiest, then I want you to marry Potter and stay faithfully his for the rest of your lives._

_I'm not so selfish that I'd put my own happiness above yours._

_But even so. . .I _am_ selfish. I am greedy. There are dark places inside of me that I have kept hidden from you._

_And even though I have disciplined myself severely to keep you from seeing that darkness, even though I will raise a toast to your happiness at your wedding reception. . ._

_I still want so much more of you than you'll ever give me._

_One trembling, clumsy kiss. . .it's all I have left to give; all that remains of the man I'd hoped to be._

_And since you're asleep, now's the only chance of me doing it without you noticing. . ._

_I won't ask for anything more than this, the least of my desires. . .the very least of what I wanted in this life. . ._

_I won't ever be this selfish again. . ._

_So please. . ._

Without daring to think of the consequences, I slowly bent and kissed her with as much tenderness as I still possessed.

_Forgive me, Lily._

Her full lips were incredibly soft and warm against mine—it sent a shock through me like a lightning bolt, dizzying me with the force of it. My nose rested against the side of hers, it tickled in a strange way.

I could feel blood rushing to my head, heat pooling in my face.

_So this is a kiss. . ._

I broke away after the briefest second, terrified that I'd woken her—her mouth had just shifted against mine. _Did she just kiss me back?_

"Mmm, James. . .Love you. . ."

Realization sank into me like a dagger. She hadn't been kissing me, she'd only said a phrase she'd recited so many times before this that she recalled it reflexively when kissed, even drunk and asleep. . .

No matter how hard I had tried to be worthy of it, I'd never heard her say that to me.

Her smile, her laugh, her heart, her kiss, her love. . .there wasn't a single part of Lily that had ever belonged to me. Not a single part that I'd been worthy to hold.

I straightened woodenly; a strange, pained calm overtaking me as I watched Lily drift further into sleep. Only the sound of her soft, even breathing filled the room as silent tears welled up behind my eye.

My slowly-exhaled breath left my shoulders sagging as I finally accepted the magnitude of what I had lost. And with that defeated sigh, I saw the man I'd hoped to be disappear.

Now there was truly nothing left of me to give.

_Of course you love him, Lily. . ._

_I just wish that even the smallest corner of your heart could've loved me, too._

I blinked harshly, trying in vain to clear my blurred vision as I stumbled toward the door. I didn't want to wake her, but I had to get out of this house. I had to get back to my cottage before I broke down entirely. Even now, I couldn't let her see how much she'd hurt me; I couldn't let her see the damage that her tender hands had done.

I let myself out and shut the door quietly, taking two steps and ripping my wand out of my pocket with a choked cry. I could feel my pulse racing; I knew I had only a minute or so until the pain overtook me.

_Please, please let me make it back in one piece. I need to be at my cottage, I need to get there. . ._

I turned on the spot and disapparated with a crack.

I appeared in my small cottage and shut down the floo immediately. There was no time to waste, now that Lily was out of my sight. I twisted my wand and the door squelched shut, the blinds flew together and the fireplace snuffed out. Another flick set my silencing charm. My small, flickering kerosene lantern was all the light I could stand during a migraine, and this one already felt like it'd be a big one.

I summoned every last one of my 3-meal potions along with a purpose-built hose with a spring-loaded spigot on the end that I could drink off of, and then transfigured the latest issue of the Daily Prophet into a bedpan. I had no idea if I'd be able to move with the pain that was steadily flowing into me, but I would take no chances. I set my wand down on the table and walked shakily into the circle of my preparations.

I could feel the pressure building in my head, shooting past anything I'd expected to an unimaginably high crescendo. I'd never had a buildup that lasted this long, and I sucked in gasping lungfuls of air as I fought to clear a space on the floor. I didn't want to hit anything with an edge if I passed out, and I didn't dare use my wand with a migraine so imminent.

I felt a sharp pinch between my shoulderblades as my hands started spasming uncontrollably. Tears began leaking even faster as the pressure built dangerously high behind my eyes.

This felt different. Somehow I knew this was going to hurt a lot more than I had planned.

I stared longingly at my potions supply room. I had brewed the pain relieving potion that Madam Pomfrey had so thoughtfully informed me of—more as an exercise in curiosity than with any intent to use—and it was well within its recommended potency date. I knew it would relieve the incredible pain that was coming. It would save me.

But save me from what?

My mind taunted me acidly, "You're going to run from the pain? You're going to run from Lily? She gave you this pain, you know. Would you really pull yourself away from her to spare yourself?"

I smirked as I stood alone in my quiet cottage, rigid and defiant, bracing myself for the onslaught. Even now, I couldn't cut away a single part of Lily Evans that I had hoarded so greedily. _If this is the cost of loving Lily Evans, then I'll pay it. No matter how much it hurts._

Such strong words. . .Something a real man might say.

A pity that Lily couldn't agree.

The pain tapped languorously at the front of my head and slid, liquid and impossibly cold, straight down my spine, sending my nerves into a panic as icy lances exploded and radiated through my entire body.

I was screaming even before my legs gave way.

I squeezed my eyes shut tight and clutched at my temples as my traitorous veins raged against me, unable to focus on anything except the incomparably delirious sense of vacancy that came with such concentrated agony.

There was no time, there was no sun or moon; there was nothing at all that existed beyond the edge of my reach. Nothing but pain, pain that radiated from me to fill every corner of my small cottage. It permeated and saturated me, enveloped me with its heat and swallowed me whole. My entire body was making war against itself; my mind had rebelled at long last. I felt myself being swept away by the irresistible current.

It burned my sanity away until only the blackened frames remained. I seethed and rolled and pitched and screamed, I cursed and stomped and arched against the all-consuming pain that was pouring ever faster into me. There were no words to express it, only mindless, guttural cries.

It was the Cruciatus, it was the endless night; an electric burn that resonated from my bones to my skin, igniting every inch of my body from the crown of my agonized face to my strained, tightly-curled toes.

This was Lily Evans's legacy. This was all she had left me, and I would drink it straight-every single drop—until I was nothing but a dry, empty husk.

And so the fire raged on.

I drank 3-meal potions with water every day on a timer, and I kept the door locked and the blinds shut. The pain would swell, recede slightly for several blissful seconds, and then push ever higher in cresting waves. It was more painful than anything I'd ever experienced, and it changed so frequently that I could never learn to tolerate it quickly enough.

By the third 3-meal potion the pressure in my head was so intense that blood started seeping out of the corner of my useless right eye. I began taking blood replenishing potions with my 3-meal potions.

By the eighth potion I had lost the strength to push myself off the ground. I left all my potions within arm's reach, and all the strength left in me went toward manipulating my transfigured bedpan so I didn't void myself all over my own floor. I didn't bother pulling my pants back on; it was too much effort for my wasted muscles.

By the tenth potion I'd lost the ability to distinguish my thoughts from reality. The sleep deprivation had finally shaken loose the charred frames of my sanity, and I found my dreams playing out in front of me.

I saw my son—my beautiful, pale son with Lily's emerald eyes and my thick black hair, riding a broom like he'd been born on it. I saw him growing, learning and laughing. I saw Lily beside him, hugging him and beckoning to me with loving eyes.

Even though these hallucinations were so real that I wanted to touch them, to clutch them tightly and never let them go, I couldn't drag myself four feet to the edge of the table to pull myself up. I couldn't even stand to face my dreams.

By the fourteenth potion I had cried myself dizzy, laughed myself hoarse and screamed myself mute. I was well and truly drained once more, feeling every tremor of pain but unable to respond to it except for slight twitches when hiccups came over me. Those hurt, too. My throat was dry and raw and when I coughed, I tasted blood.

After the sixteenth potion I finally felt the pain start the slow ebb that signaled its end. I had been in agony for so long that I'd forgotten what my body felt like when it wasn't on fire. I felt frozen and weak and numb.

I'd been lying on my side for so long that pressure sores had developed on my shoulder and hip; the stone floor had rubbed away my skin in places of constant contact and left dark, sticky patches of blood on the floor. They clung to me when I tried to roll over, pulling the scabs open. I didn't even flinch at it.

After draining one last 3-meal potion and pulling a nearby blanket over my rapidly relaxing body, I sighed in relief, as much as my cracked, chapped lips could manage, and finally drifted off into a fitful sleep.

I woke later, I'm not sure how much time had passed. I had never ached more in my life, no workout had ever left me so cramped and raw. I was severely dehydrated, I'd pulled several muscles and every last inch of my body was throbbing sharply.

I was mildly thankful, ironically, that it had hurt so badly; at least I hadn't trashed my cottage any further. I was in too much pain to even think about destroying the place.

Pulling myself up to the washroom, I stood and steadied myself shakily. I'd been prone so long that my head was dizzy with vertigo at being upright. It took nearly a minute for my brain to reorient itself over my feet.

I gingerly washed my face, feeling bleary, like I had the worst hangover imaginable. My lips bled freely as I scrubbed at them, the dehydration had ruined them along with the inside of my mouth. I scrubbed even harder.

I took two cupfuls of mouthwash and gargled, feeling the sharp stab of the open wounds on the inside of my mouth reacting with the alcohol in the solution. I didn't care, I just wanted to get clean. I had to rid myself of the evidence of my latest journey beyond the edge of sanity.

I spat out the mouthwash angrily, noticing how incredibly red it had turned from all the blood that had been inside my mouth. There were long, stringy lengths of blackened scabs that had lifted off under the furious brushing and swishing. I gargled again, just to make sure all the scabs were gone.

Easing out of my shirt, I surveyed the damage I'd done to my frame in the last half month. I absolutely reeked, and my entire cottage reeked along with me. I was pastier and bonier than ever, and I had oddly-shaped black stains all over my body where blood had crusted on my skin. Two of my pressure sores were still bleeding.

I could hardly recognize my reflection in the bathroom mirror. My hair was greasy and tangled, hanging down over my sallow face. Purplish raised dots covered the skin around my eyes, and I realized that my blood pressure had spiked so dramatically that blood had ruptured the capillaries near my eyes and forced its way to the surface; I'd bled even from the very pores of my skin. My skin was pale and waxy; my good eye was dull and lifeless, like a mannequin's. My other eye was now a smooth, milky white from end to end.

_This is the cost of loving Lily Evans, _I told my reflection, _and you will pay every last sickle. _Even though I looked atrocious, I felt pride swell out from the hollow cavity inside my chest as I stared at the ragged survivor before me.

I had chosen the pain. Even after 16 straight days.

I'd thrown myself headfirst into hell for over two weeks, and I still chose Lily. Not even that incredible pain could separate me from any part of her. Nothing but death would _ever_ separate me from Lily Evans.

As soon as I was done with the washroom, I was going to eat at least a dozen eggs and a full pound of bacon, and then I was going to clean every single nook and cranny of my entire cottage until it smelled like springtime and sparkled like crystal. After putting my house in order, I was going to choke back my strongest muscle regenerator, wait ten minutes and then work out as hard as I possibly could.

I had been strangely empowered by that incredibly painful voyage I'd just taken. I felt. . .purposeful. I didn't feel like I'd just willingly tortured myself; I felt like I'd just won something grand, though I hadn't known I was competing.

It didn't matter that I hadn't gotten everything I'd wanted in my life. What mattered, indeed the only thing that ever mattered, was that I was living for something. I was living for some_one_.

In the end, the only thing that mattered was whether or not you lived for what you loved.

I ran myself a shower, as hot as the tap would allow, and stepped under the scalding stream with a quiet and hoarse—but thoroughly exultant—shout.


	14. Love

((Very raw, only a bit fleshed out. Had to show how he was coping with his situation after Hogwarts, as well as his musings on what love is. Apologies.))

* * *

Chapter 13

* * *

_All I've Ever Learned Of Love Is This: It Brought Me to Life, And It Will Surely Be The Death of Me._

* * *

Sev's thoughts about life, love and Lily Evans, intermixed with wedding plans, interactions with the lady herself and her fiancée, and his mates. Sev's job and another subplot highlight his loneliness.

Severus grew up resenting his mother, vowing not to live as she did, and yet somehow, he also fell for perhaps the one person who would hurt him the most in this world. Or was it the other way around, where whomever he fell in love with would hurt him the most in this world?

Interesting parallel between him and his mother.

This chapter illustrates the differences between himself and Potter, about the nature of Love.

Love, he decided, must surely be a greedy emotion. It must be selfish. It must demand attention.

Potter had ruined her night on many occasions after she had hurt him in some way. He had hurt her for hurting him. He had hurt her for not paying attention to him. He had hexed her, laughed at her, hurt her... And he had done it all because of a feeling he had inside of him, something that said Lily Evans's opinion mattered more than anyone else's.

There must have been something inside of him that made him force Lily to pay attention to him, even if he had to hurt her to do it. That desperate need for her attention, for her _affection_, was that love?

Severus shuddered at the very thought of causing Lily pain, no matter how much she hurt him. If she wanted to pay attention to someone else, he could deal with it. Because it made her happy. Even if she ignored him and neglected him, if she was smiling and laughing then he was satisfied.

What could he call that strange, powerful feeling, then, if not love?

Obviously, he did not love her properly. He couldn't have loved her the right way, if she had chosen someone else. So logically, what he felt for her couldn't have been love.

Even though he 'loved' her so much that his heart ached at the thought, he must've done something wrong. He never made her choose, never forced her to make up her mind one way or another. He simply trusted her blindly, trusted her to know what she wanted. He trusted that no matter what happened, she and he would be together in the end.

And perhaps that was the problem. He never asked her about any of this. He just assumed that if he could feel this deeply for her, she must know about it, and more, she must feel just as deeply for him. What's worse, his obstinate resolve to never make her choose between things that she liked had likely cost him everything.

He had assumed that telling her he loved her would force her to choose between loving him back or leaving him alone. He had assumed that she would eventually choose him without any pressure from him one way or the other.

Only now could he see how foolish that had been. She had never considered him because he had never asked to be considered. He'd just understood that she _must _know.

Instead of letting her choose him freely, he hadn't told her that he was a choice at all. Choosing, then, should not have been something to be feared. It should have been _embraced_.

It probably wouldn't have changed anything, of course, but it couldn't have hurt any worse than this.

What had he felt for her all this time, if he could watch her walk away? Potter certainly hadn't been able to watch her walk away, and now they were two months away from publicly declaring their undying love for each other.

So their actions must have signified a deeper emotion than his actions had signified. He must feel something less than love, if he could allow her to marry someone else. Potter certainly would not sit idly by if she were marrying me.

But how could anything possibly hurt more than this?

How could he not love her, if she could hurt him this badly?

Or, conversely, perhaps it was because it hurt him so badly... that it couldn't possibly be love he felt?

What could he call it, then, if not love? What name could he give to such fevered, intense pain?

* * *

Severus's dilemma, after Hogwarts, was that he could no longer stand to be in her company for more than a few hours at a time, and it would inevitably be followed by an intensely painful migraine. But if he stayed away from Lily, if he didn't answer her owls and didn't speak to her and didn't see her, then the ache in his chest grew so incredibly painful that a migraine would be a relief.

So it was an endless cycle of enduring her presence or absence for as long as possible, and suffering with and without her. There was no respite, save that split second when he saw her eyes again after a long while. Every ounce of pressure disappeared, and he could breathe easy. For just that one moment in time, the world was right again.

And then he remembered why it took him so long to come back around. Why he wasn't at her house every day, looking forward to forever. He'd glance down and see her engagement ring.

And that's when the pressure started building again.

* * *

Severus helps Lily do the wedding invitations in this chapter.

There weren't many, perhaps fifty people or so. James wouldn't help, and I volunteered my services. It had been eight days since I saw her last, and the ache in my chest was heavy and labored. I needed to see her.

I showed up at her door as calmly as possible, when inside I was trembling with anticipation. She was so close... The door opened, and Potter stared out at me curiously.

"Oh, if that's Sev, tell him to come in! He said he'd help with the wedding invitations tonight, since you're busy with Sirius," Lily called from the sitting room.

James searched me with that curious glare of his. "Why are you here?" he whispered quietly, not wanting to let his fiancée overhear him.

"I'm here to help Lily."

"With the wedding invitations? Even though you... ?" He didn't finish the sentence. He didn't need to.

I shrugged, unable to muster any fury. I hadn't been able to get angry at Potter since that enlightening 16-day lock-in at my cottage. "Of course, Potter. What else can I do?"

Pushing my way past him before he could do something stupid, like actually answer that question, I entered the sitting room and saw her propped up against the couch, hundreds of pieces of multi- colored paper strewn around her. Her eyes met mine, and with a relieved sigh I felt that deep, suffocating pressure suddenly release me. I could finally breathe again, looking into those eyes...

We spent the night catching up on the latest, I smiled and she laughed. I could feel that throbbing ache returning, like a bruise on my heart that had finally gotten some blood flow.

We folded and stuffed announcements, and then addressed them. Dear Mr. and Mrs. _: Lily Evans _isn't_ marrying Severus Snape on _. Dear Mr. _; Lily Evans _isn't_ marrying Severus Snape on _.

I took it all with a practiced grace, knowing that I'd pay for it later. I would boil away every last ounce of me, every drop I had to offer, making Lily Evans happy. And when she was finally through with me, when I was finally wasted and spent, then I'd gladly let Hell have whatever scraps were left.

She complimented me on how my invitations turned out; they were much straighter, evener and more uniform than hers. "It's just a matter of being deliberate, Lily. Knowing precisely what you mean to say, and how many letters it will take to say it. Then you simply place each letter where it is meant to go. You just need to be a bit more purposeful. Like this..."

I demonstrated on the opposite side of an envelope that she'd already messed up on. I drew lines for her to write on, and vertical lines for spacing. I counted the letters and centered the text based on the length of the name involved, and showed her how to space her letters more evenly.

"_Merlin_. Is there anything you're not good at, Sev?" Lily huffed, blowing a stray strand of her brilliant red hair out of her face.

"Singing. I'm absolute rubbish at singing, remember?" I smiled at the memory.

"Hm? When did I ever hear you sing? I'm really glad to hear you're not brilliant at everything, though. It makes me feel a bit better about myself. How mad is that..." She chuckled to herself, studying the spacing diagram I'd drawn.

I buried my face in my work again, so she wouldn't see the very real bitterness that was engraving itself on my features.

Memories of her, sweet and nostalgic, were the only thing in my life that I truly cherished. The memory of the Yule Ball in 5th year, where we shared that strange and incredible intimacy. . .it was something I could never forget. I had replayed that night countless times, ensuring that it remained as clear and defined in my mind as it was the moment it happened.

And she'd forgotten.

I suppose that was the real reason why she always hurt me so much.

If she just _cared_... if she looked at me and felt the same sort of warmth that I did... Even though she hadn't fallen in love with me, I think I could be satisfied with the endless tragedy of my life if she just cared enough.

But she didn't.

The best night of my entire life wasn't memorable enough for her to remember it. All the things we'd discussed, forgotten. My serenading, which she'd found so humorous back then, wasn't memorable to her. She'd even described the same sense of relief that I wasn't brilliant at everything, as if she hadn't ever thought that before now.

_Did I make it so easy to forget me, Lily?_

That timid, terrified question seethed and rolled in my stomach like fire and acid, boiling and popping inside of me. I felt sick with fury. I was so angry with myself. I had tried _so hard_, but I couldn't make her see me.

I remembered everything she said, I committed it all to memory as a precious gift. I hoarded every part of her jealously, greedily.

And she'd forgotten my words. I realized at once why the thought cut me so deeply.

She'd forgotten because remembering such a mundane and trivial occurrence meant little to her. Because these terrifyingly powerful emotions had caused only my _own_ mind to label anything and everything about her as critically important. Her mind had dismissed that night as irrelevant. By association, that meant that I myself was irrelevant. My steady, focused presence was not important enough to her to remember in detail, only in outline.

"I'm not that brilliant," I whispered, afraid to speak any louder for fear that she would hear the hurt in my voice.

All that pain, all that effort... and it still wasn't worth the effort of remembering. The heat bloomed in me like razor-edged roses, stretching along the inside of my skin.

"Of course you are, Sev! Speaking of brilliant, when are you going to find a nice young witch and settle down?" Her eyes were playful and curious. She loved to play the matchmaker with her friends. Especially with me, to my unending horror. She considered me her number-one project, and devoted far too much of our precious time together to breaking me from my lonely ways.

It never crossed her mind that I was alone for a reason. I was alone because I knew I was too damaged. I was broken and wasted, shamefully so. I was somehow deficient; not worth loving.

I hadn't the foggiest idea how to love anyone who wasn't Lily Evans.

But she wanted me to find a nice young witch that wasn't her. She wanted me to give the ashes of my wasted heart to someone else, to give them the power to hurt me every bit as fully as Lily already had.

It was times like these that I wondered if she still remembered my clumsy and stumbling declaration of love that I'd made so long ago at Hogwarts. She'd forgotten so much of me, surely she wouldn't remember something so _trivial_?

Perhaps seeing me in love with someone else would give her peace of mind. Because she would know that I hadn't truly meant it when I said I would never love another. And if I married someone else, then she wouldn't have to wonder if I was still in love with her.

But even though my dating and marrying someone else would probably make Lily happy, I found that it was a price I was not willing to pay. Perhaps the only price I was unwilling to pay.

I had to lie to Lily, of course; I had to tell her in words and deeds that I wasn't in love with her. But that lie only affected me. If I dated someone else, if I allowed someone to attempt to love me even though I knew full well I could never love them in return, then wouldn't I be subjecting them to the same agony that Lily had subjected me to?

Knowing precisely how deep that pain could cut, I couldn't possibly be that cruel. I wasn't cruel enough to allow someone else to love me. The thought calmed me, pulsing warmly against the growing pressure in my head.

I tied the red and gold ribbons in a festive bow around the wedding invitation, snipping the edges at an angle and setting the envelope in the 'completed' pile.

I was as honest and sincere as I'd ever been in my life when I answered her, "Why on Earth would I do a thing like that?"


	15. Alone

((Another super-rough chapter; I wanted to bring the reader back to the beginning. Even after all of his efforts, all of his sacrifice, he still feels himself a coward.

What do you think?))

* * *

Chapter 14

* * *

_I Knew That Some Day I Would Have To Face My Fate Alone, But The Hardest Part Is Realizing That I've Been Alone All Along._

* * *

There needs to be a bit of introspection in here, about how Severus doesn't really care about Voldemort, but in another life he could've seen himself sympathizing. If he hadn't gone to Gryffindor, if he had never met Lily Evans, maybe right now he would've been wearing a Death Eater's mask.

Events from Martyr, from waking up that morning to a finished Felix Felicis to him passing out at St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries to Dumbledore talking to him.

When he wakes up with a sense of purpose, finishes his first successfully brewed batch of Felix Felicis, he thinks about the side effects. Excessive giddiness, recklessness, dangerous overconfidence. It's highly toxic in large quantities. He must only use it sparingly, although excessive giddiness didn't seem like a bad thing at all...

He never experiences the giddiness or overconfidence, he's paranoid about that, but he does notice himself becoming reckless.

Only a sip whenever he needed it. But he'd begin brewing more immediately, now that he knew he had the recipe perfect. He had a feeling he'd need it.

* * *

His magic starts dwindling to nothing in this chapter, right after he wakes up in St. Mungo's is when he notices it. He's nearly a squib by the end of the next chapter. It's like his magic won't regenerate any more. He feels weaker, and every time he uses magic he knows that it isn't coming back. He reserves it only for special occasions, then. Budgets his magic usage to keep from running out. Because there is a very real threat of his magic dwindling to nothing, and it doesn't worry him as much as it should. It just means he'll certainly die, instead of only most likely dying.

He's 'despairing.' It has been a documented wizarding phenomenon for centuries; he just wondered why it had taken him so long to start despairing.

So this is despair...

* * *

During the exchange of vows; _I made my choice the moment I was Sorted into Gryffindor. I didn't know it at the time, but this was where my path led. This was my fate the moment I chose Lily over my ambition._

_And even though it ends like this... I'll never regret a single moment we spent together, because your happiness is worth everything to me, and he makes you happier than I can._

_So I'll let him have you, and I'll smile for you even though I feel like my heart is bleeding out of me. And at the end of the night, when you disappear with him to begin your new lives together. . .I will disappear, too._

_That is love, too. . .isn't it?_

At the wedding, I danced with Lily one more time. She gasped when I twirled her, took her through a rather complicated dance. Make it period correct. "Sev, I didn't know you danced. . ." She looked delighted. Her eyebrows knit together in concentration as she did her best to follow the complicated steps I led her through.

This, right here, was what I needed to do. I needed her to remember her best friend fondly, all smiles and laughter. This one final dance. I needed to make it memorable. I wasn't sure when I'd see her again, when I'd be presentable again. It might be a month or more before I came down from this migraine, if I came down from it at all, so I had to make it count.

God, but I loved her.

I loved her hair, and her small, perpetually cold hands clutching at my back. I loved every single one of her freckles and her impossibly symmetrical smile. And more than anything else in this world, I loved her eyes. Eyes that had brought my life into focus. Eyes that showed me the joy and the pain of living, eyes that saw the poor, dirty boy I used to be and didn't turn away in disgust.

She would never stop captivating me.

Not ever.

He apparates to St. Mungo's, passes out. Wakes up, nurse takes his vitals, says he's been out for three days. They've kept him sedated, because he kept screaming and rolling around when he wasn't medicated. He kept clutching his head, so they fed him a migraine relieving potion and it worked very well. We'll be back to check on you in another three hours. Rest, Mr. Snape.

* * *

Dumbledore comes in, smiles gently at the young man before him. "Hello, Severus."

Severus inclined his head. "Headmaster." What was this about?

And then Dumbledore sat before him, and he wove fantastical tales of Voldemort. He looked Severus in the eye and said, "If it would allow Lily Potter to live safely and happily, would you be willing to help us track down and defeat Voldemort? Lily is a part of this effort, as well. Your skills would be a great help to us."

Severus has to decide right away, he woke up and latched onto this almost immediately. Thank _Merlin_, I'm not obsolete yet...

Severus smiled easily. "I'm well aware of your Order, Dumbledore, and I want nothing to do with it. I couldn't care less about the Wizarding World. Just tell me what needs to be done. I need this now more than ever. Please. Leave this task to me."

"Severus, you can't do this alone. We can help you. I've never doubted your courage, but fighting him alone is foolish."

"Please, Headmaster, don't. Courage, you say..." I sighed wistfully. "I am a coward. I didn't have the courage to be confident around Lily, I was too afraid. I didn't have the courage to stand up and say what needed to be said, I drowned in my doubts. I'm ashamed of how little courage I really have, truth be told."

There was no fire in my words, only a resigned dedication to finish this once and for all.

"But I have courage enough. . .for this."


	16. Steps

((A bookkeeping chapter, Severus getting his affairs in order. It was mostly written as a character study, for my intellectual curiosity.

I've always wondered how Severus dealt with keeping his word, even as the life bled out of him in the Deathly Hallows. How much pain he'd have to be in, how many thoughts were racing through his mind as he focused only on Harry Potter, and relaying the memories that Dumbledore had entrusted him with. How brave he must have been, to carry out that final command.

And his last act was not an apology; he was unapologetic. He did not regret how he'd always acted towards Harry. All he wanted was to stare into those green eyes again; precisely his mother's eyes. The eyes that had saved him, captivated him, damned him, and haunted him.

What a story those cold, sad, lonely black eyes must have told.))

* * *

Chapter 15

* * *

_How Can I Possibly Plan My Own Death? How Can I Calmly Climb The Tall, Foreboding Steps That Lead To My Destruction? Quite Easily, It Turns Out, When My Only Alternative Is To Continue Living._

* * *

This is Severus preparing for the Horcrux hunt, and his eventual confrontation with Voldemort, and his subsequent death. Planning it all out methodically.

He writes dozens of letters to Lily explaining his death, all rubbish. He brews more Felix Felicis, a whole hell of a lot more, and can't leave until he's got enough to see this through. So it's six months of waiting for his potions to brew. It's like watching the grass grow, but grass that needs careful tending every single day.

It's a good thing his job is potions, if he had to do any magic at all then he'd've been fired months ago.

He works on the theory for his spell for Voldemort. His spell that expresses Love in something he will understand. He can't practice it, but he's well-versed enough in the theory that he's moderately sure it will work.

He simply doesn't have the magic to waste on practicing it.

* * *

Dumbledore tries to talk him into joining the Order, but settles for helping him figure out where the horcruxes are. He finds most of them in this chapter, but they don't go disturbing them yet. He wants to collect them and destroy them all at once, so Voldemort can't react and move the rest of them.

What about Slughorn's memory? Snape was a student of his, One of his best. He talks to him, asks him directly for the proper memory. Slughorn says he doesn't know what Severus is talking about. Snape's eyes flash. I will have that memory, unaltered, before I leave here tonight. Because I need to kill Tom Riddle, and I need that memory to do it. What? I am going to kill Voldemort, and I need your memory to do it. So give it to me, Professor. You're not proud. Neither am I. I don't care what that memory shows, and I have no time to waste. You didn't create Voldemort, Professor. You merely gave him what he would've gotten some other way, regardless. Like now, you will give it to me or I will get it some other way. But I will have it, and Voldemort will die.

* * *

Lily comes over several times, knocks. He knows she's there, just beyond that scrap of wood. He rests his head against the door as she pounds on it, feeling the vibrations from her tiny fist resonating through his skull. It's almost like she's touching him again. She begs and pleads. Tells him she doesn't care that he's sick, she'll risk it, she just wants to see her best friend. Open the door!

Potter tries to talk him into hanging out with them. He can practically _smell_ the pity. "Can't you just leave me alone, Potter? You won. You won, and I lost. Happy?"

"No, Snape, I'm not happy about- That's not it at all...I just think you're beating yourself up about this, and what you really need to do is get out there and find someone better for you. It's not healthy, okay? So come out with me and the boys, we'll hit the town and find you a nice, pretty witch..." he trailed off uncertainly.

"'...that'll make you forget all about my wife.' That's what you meant to say just now, and I'm sorry to say, you're wrong."

"You're a financially stable, physically fit, intelligent and attractive wizard. You'll find someone who will be able to love you for who you are. You'll find a nearly limitless supply of _someones_. Trust me. You just have to be willing to look."

"Even if I was willing to look, I'll never see anyone else clearly."

"You need to get over her, mate."

"I'm not your mate, Potter...and I really don't want to hear those words from your mouth. Are you telling me that you would have gotten over her if she'd have chosen me?"

Potter's eyes lit up, finally catching a line of thought that he could use. "Yes! Yes I would have! I'd have hated you for a while, I'd have bitched to my mates about you and how shallow and fickle women are, and then I'd've gone out and tried to find someone else!"

I nodded. Of course he would. "I've never envied you before, did you know that? Not even when you were at the prime of your Hogwarts popularity, I never envied a single thing about you. But the idea that you could just...get over her...I envy you that."

Potter sighed, "You're missing the point, Severus."

"No. What I'm missing is my _life._ I'll never be over her, and I never want to be. So I ended up alone. So what? I should stop loving her simply because she doesn't love me in return? That's conditional, Potter, and what I feel for Lily has always been _un_conditional. There's nothing either of us can do to change what I feel for her, ever. Even if she hated me, I couldn't possibly stop loving her. You've got no right to tell me what love is, or how I can or cannot love someone. Now get out of my house."

Potter shakes his head in frustration, snaps, "Lily misses you. She made me promise to tell you to stop working so hard, so you can come over again. I think you're doing the right thing, staying away from her. It'll be easier on both of you."

"I hardly care if _you_ think I'm doing the right thing, and don't sound so magnanimous. You just want me to stay away from your wife. Rest assured, that's precisely what I'm doing. She's happy with you, as much as it pains me to admit, and I won't interfere with her happiness. So why are you still here? I've got spattergroit, remember? I'm in terrible shape."

James sighs, shakes his head and leaves. Good.

Lily stops trying to come over after that, just sends letters telling him to get well soon.

* * *

He aches for her, longs to see her, thinks about her so much that he wonders if she ever leaves his mind at all. But he can't see her. Even though the hole in his chest keeps bleeding, keeps pouring out of him, he can't give in. He's afraid that if he sees her, he'll lose his resolve. He needs to complete this task.

He writes several different letters, considers the effect they'll have. He very seriously considered just saying goodbye, and leaving the whole 'I've always loved you' bit out of it. His last and perhaps greatest act of love would be to take those feelings, forever unexpressed, to the grave with him.

But even though he had been so selfless when it came to Lily, even though he had lied to her so often and so completely... he could not allow her to remain ignorant. He'd sacrificed so much for her clueless smile, knowing that it was better than the alternative. But what alternative did he have now? If he didn't tell her now, in this letter, then he would die and she would never know how deeply he had loved her. All that pain would die with him.

Even the thought of swallowing all those lies... It hurt.

As selfish as it seemed... he couldn't stand the thought of dying with his feelings unexpressed. He could take any other pain, he'd proven that well enough by now... but no matter how badly it hurt her, she had to know the truth. She deserved to know the truth, and if it took his death to finally reveal the depth of his love, then even though he would not die happily... even though he'd never truly known such a fickle thing as 'happiness'...

He could rest in peace. As long as he could tell her the truth, he would grudgingly suffer the respite of the grave.

He works long hours to save up money, invests that money as well as he can. He's incredibly _lucky _with his investments, gets returns of up to 200%.

He finishes paying off his house, starts socking away money as fast as he can.

He wants to earn as much as possible in the next six months, before the Felix Felicis finishes brewing, so that he can help Lily live life with less stress. He wants to leave her a lot of money, a lot of potions that she can sell or take, a house that she can sell or live in or burn to the ground... whatever she wants. He wants to provide for her and her new life with Potter, and for any children they would _certainly_ have.

He just wants to make her smile.

So he works really, really hard every single day. Brewing Felix, working double shifts and investing constantly.

He perfects the Wolfsbane Potion here and sells the recipe to St. Mungo's. Draws up a will so she's the sole beneficiary of the monthly proceeds.

He raises a ton of money, puts it in his Gringott's vault. Are his parents dead yet?

It doesn't matter. They don't want to see him, and they won't.

* * *

Before the Horcrux hunt, he prepares his final letter to Lily. Area is littered with parchment, he just can't say it right... He cries a lot while he's writing it, has to bin those copies, too. It just wouldn't do, to have Lily know that I'd been crying. I must be strong. I must show her that I am doing this purposefully.

He finally finishes, looking around his cottage one last time. He picks up a spare mason jar and drops some small bluebell flames into it. He's sweating with the effort. He casts a weak preserving charm on the flames and speaks directly to Hermes as he ties a slipknot to the envelope. If his owl sticks a foot through the loop and flies off with it, it will cinch down around his leg securely. It would allow the bird to hunt indefinitely while Severus was out tracking down Voldemort's horcruxes.

"This envelope is for Lily Potter. If these flames go out, it means I'm dead. So if the flames go out, take this envelope to her and stay with her. She will take care of you.

"And thank you. You are loyal, and I respect that trait highly. You have been... a good owl." He pats the bird's head gently, the bird nips affectionately at his finger. "If all goes as planned, I'll be back in a week or two and you can stay with me a while longer. Goodbye, Hermes."

He grabs his pack, picks up his wand and opens the window, then leaves. The door clicks shut, and then it's quiet.


	17. Shard

((Another rough chapter. Just questioning and strengthening his resolve, to do what he has to do. And as with all heroes, he must fight his battle alone.))

* * *

Chapter 16

* * *

_The Closer I Get To Losing Everything, The More I Realize How Little I Had In The First Place. Instead Of A Whole, Unbroken Soul, All I Ever Had Was One Shabby Little Shard._

* * *

Almost immediately after Lily got married, Severus felt his magic sapping away. Dwindling to nothing. He'd heard of it happening to some people. Despair caused it. Despair over his unrequited love. He knows instantly the cause of it, but he tries to convince his body to keep working like it had before.

So what if she doesn't love me? That can't matter to me anymore! I need to regain my focus, I need to relieve myself of this despair.

He thought that having a purpose again, having a direction to go, an opponent to beat for Lily, would bring his magic back. But it hadn't.

I need to see her. Just rest my eyes on her. One last time, before...

Before I...

* * *

During the horcrux hunt, I had to go to Godric's Hollow to follow a lead. I put on a muggle disguise, using makeup to artificially darken my skin, wool-crepe and spirit gum to fashion myself a beard and muggle hair dye to lighten my incredibly dark hair. I now looked more like a bearded Amos Diggory than myself. It would suffice.

I was top-notch with glamours but my magic, irritatingly, had been sapped away to nearly nothing. Stiffened suddenly. Lily and James Potter were coming towards me, she was clinging to his arm and laughing about something. He looked chagrined, but pleased with himself. She looked carefree. Happy.

This right here, was why I left. This was why I had to find those horcruxes and destroy them. Because Lily Evans deserved to spend every single day being this carefree and happy. Even if it was with Potter. I would happily walk to my death for that.

And suddenly, I realized that was exactly what I was doing. I was walking to my death. I knew how to destroy those horcruxes, but Voldemort... Once he was dead, what was there for me?

After Voldemort was gone, there would be nothing left for me. I would no longer be Lily's avenger, her protector. She had married Potter, and no longer needed me by her side.

I'd always clung jealously to life, knowing that death would separate me from Lily, but what was there to fear now? I was alone. I didn't need to stay to protect her, even a dunderhead like Potter could manage that with Voldemort out of the way.

She had many friends and relatives, she even had a soulmate, but I... I had lost everything. I'd even lost my magic, in my despair.

There was nothing left for me here, in this world. Nothing worth the pain of living on.

Perhaps dying wouldn't be such a terrible thing, after all.

* * *

I was hunting down all the pieces of Voldemort's fractured soul, all his pieces, and it got me thinking of my own. I had been born with a brittle soul, and it was already shattered; it had been blasted to pieces long ago in an asphalt playground.

Of those crystalline pieces, only one small shard was big enough to hold onto; the piece that would always belong to Lily Evans. The only piece I was proud of, the only piece I ever truly needed. The rest blew away as dust, already forgotten. That's why Lily never loved me. She simply wasn't able to love enough of me, because I didn't have enough of me left to truly love.

I hadn't had more than just this one little shard since the day I met Lily Evans. How could someone weave their whole, unbroken soul with one small, jagged piece? We were incompatible even on a metaphorical level.

But this shard was the most powerful part of me. The only part I needed to survive. And even though it wasn't enough for Lily to love... I was, at long last, proud of my shabby little shard. I was as proud as a soldier clutching his well-oiled weapon, ready to go to war.

As long as this shard glowed inside of me, I would never feel ashamed of myself again. There wasn't anything shameful about something as faithful as this. Regardless of the outcome, regardless of the pain, I had been loyal to my heart. I had not failed myself, not once.

I'd finally become the hero that I swore to become, all those years ago. I'd proven to myself that I could be true to my heart, no matter the cost.

It was Lily Evans that gave me the perfect opportunity to prove myself. It was Lily Evans that had finally brought my life clarity. She'd brought my life purpose.

And I'd been living for that purpose ever since.

Instead of defeat, I felt strangely as if I'd won something wonderful.

The thought relieved me so immensely that I felt weightless.

_After all this time, all this pain, I think I finally understand._

_I'll never again be ashamed of my love for you, because even though you couldn't return my feelings, even though I've hurt myself so badly because of it... It is the very best part of me-and it will always belong to you._

I suddenly wished I had more to offer, more to sacrifice for her. But this would have to do, because this shabby little shard was everything I'd ever had to lose.

_I hope that you have several hundred more peaceful years with your husband, and you squeeze every last ounce of happiness out of this life. I'll do my best to make sure your peace is uninterrupted._

_I am proud to have known you and loved you, Lily, and I'll gladly die to protect you._

"Take good care of her, James," I whispered, staring after their laughing backs.

_Because it was you that saved me, all those years ago._

And as I turned and walked away from her blazing, almond-shaped eyes for the last time, I felt my magic swelling up within me. It grew more and more rapidly with each passing second, each successive step away from the love of my life.

_You've been saving my life since the day we met._

My heartbeat pounded harder with each breath. It swirled inside of me, building like a thundercloud in my chest. I nearly wept in relief.

Tomorrow I would start my hunt for Voldemort, and I would not rest until I found him and fought him to the death.

_It's time for me to return the favor._

Tomorrow, I would bet my life on this tiny, shabby shard—for it was the most dangerous weapon in the world.


	18. Lily

((And this is what Severus is fighting for. I wanted to write it so the readers would keep in the back of their mind at all times that this calm, happy time for Lily and James was being paid for in blood, in a war being waged for Lily's sake.))

* * *

Chapter 17 -_ Life_

* * *

Intermission, Lily's POV.

About her life with James, her friends, her work, the War, her dreams.

She's blessed. She's incredibly thankful for everything that she has.

Where is Sev? She only spends a short amount of time thinking about him. She's got a lot to occupy her mind, and he seemed just fine last time he saw her. He said he was really busy with work. Well, she can appreciate that. She's trying hard to afford the flat that she shares with James. They're budgeting their money and living on their meager paychecks. James wants to do it alone, doesn't ever want to ask his parents for help. She's the same. They're done imposing on their parents. It's a pride thing.

And then she misses her period, and she's terrified. James smiles at her reassuringly. This will all work out, somehow. Lily, I love that my child is growing in you. I can't possibly be worried about something like that. I love you, and I love the child inside of you. Everything will work out somehow. I promise.

He's not a bad guy, and Lily loves him. They are a sympathetic pair.

This is life. It's scary, it's unpredictable, it's up and down from one day to the next. But she loves James and she loves their child. That's all that really matters, isn't it?


	19. Peace

((The last two pages are far more polished than the rest of the chapter. Please just grit your teeth and suffer through the beginning, the ending is worth it.))

* * *

Chapter 18

* * *

_All I Ever Wanted In This Life Was Peace... And I've Got A Pretty Good Idea Where Fate's Hidden It._

* * *

_Is it really too much to ask, Fate, that you be kind to me, just this once? For old time's sake, perhaps? You know, since you've always been so ridiculously unfair to me in the past._

_Of course that's too much to ask; I keep forgetting that you're a raging bitch. There must be nothing in the world you enjoy more than stacking the deck against me, considering how often it occurs._

_Well, consider my lesson learned. I'll have to do this the hard way._

_Just like I always do._

_I'll see you soon, and I'll be sure to thank you in person for allowing me to play with the hand you've dealt me; the worst possible hand in the deck. You've made no secret of my odds; I am fated to lose. I was always going to lose._

_The only freedom you'll allow me is how much I want to bet on this one hand, being fully aware of how the cards will fall._

_So thanks for nothing. I'm "all in"._

_I won't run from you. I won't fold. Not when I'm so close to finally getting the chance to lay these cards back down on the table._

_But you already knew that, didn't you?_

Severus kills the last Horcrux, Slytherin's locket, and starts hunting down Voldemort. He's slippery, Severus gets in a lot of fights between here and there. He gets cut and bruised and tortured a bit, perhaps. He doesn't say he's fighting for his life, or for the Wizarding World.

He's doing this for Lily Potter.

Because you couldn't just leave well enough alone. That's it.

It leads up to the final confrontation with Voldemort.

He finally finds out where Voldemort's staying that night, at Malfoy Manor. He goes there, Voldemort's waiting for him. He's got his own Felix Felicis, says it's quite a magnificent potion. He wants more of it. Everything seems to go so much smoother when I've got this miraculous liquid in me... And I have you to thank for opening my eyes to it, Snape. Everything just seems to go my way now... I wonder how it will work against you? I've tried different dosages, it only seems to affect the duration of the effect, and not the potency. So we'll see who is truly the luckier one of us.

Snape reminds Voldemort that he once told Avery/Mulciber that Lily Evans was not to be touched, under pain of a gory, atrociously sticky death. They must not have passed that on, then. Pity.

You could've been great, Snape. You could have joined my struggle. But instead, ever the Gryffindor, you had to go and believe in a silly thing like "Justice."

"This isn't justice, Tom. This isn't honorable or virtuous. I'm not trying to save the wizarding world. They can all rot, and I wouldn't care. What I _do_ care about is that girl you're holding hostage right now. That's it.

This isn't some heroic duel between good and evil: this is just two mangy junkyard dogs in a cage, fighting to the death like savages.

Come on, then, Tom. Let go of the girl—you'll need both your hands to deal with me."

When it comes to the final duel, Voldemort has Lily tied up and gagged, holding her by the throat in front of him. Severus's eyes widen as he raises his wand skyward.

I'll let her go right after this, I promise. You just have to stand there and let this happen... Points his wand at Severus and fires a black bolt at his stomach.

Sev steels himself-feels the impact seep into him, rather than merely hit him. He can feel the skin where it impacted, it chars and cracks. Pulls aside his robe, it's blackened three inches in every direction. He thought it would be the killing curse...

Did you really think I'd kill you so quickly? With the damage you've inflicted on my cause, I'll not be so merciful. Your death will take an entire hour, and I'll take my time paying you back for destroying my horcruxes!

Voldemort hit him with a curse that will slowly kill him over the course of an hour. He wants to test Severus, wants him to suffer for destroying his horcruxes. He tosses Lily into a chair, bows mockingly to the injured Snape. Duels him.

Voldemort disarms him, to toy with him more, and smirks as he catches Severus's wand.

Severus smirks right back and wandlessly casts his spell. Surprise. You always were too dependent on that wand of yours.

Severus wins, hits Voldemort with his new spell (create something in latin for it, like true love), summons his wand from him, then conjures bindings to hold him. Stay there a moment.

He rushes to Lily's side, undoes her gag. It's not her voice. Just some scared muggle. Polyjuice potion. He smiled in defeat, cuts her ropes. Thank God... it wasn't really her... I'm so glad she didn't get kidnapped... Tells her to relax, he won't hurt her. Portus. Creates a portkey to the Ministry of Magic, drops it on her lap. She shrieks and disappears. Let the obliviators deal with her.

I realized, standing there in that cold, stone archway, that even though Lily had married someone else, I wanted to live anyway. I wanted to stay beside her a while longer. I wanted to see her again...

I wished, more than anything, that when I opened my eyes I'd find the Sorting Hat being pulled off of my head, and I would realize that my adventure had only just begun. And I'd stand, flushed with the exertion of my test, and smile at Lily as I sat with her again for the first time at the Gryffindor table.

I wanted so badly to sit beside her, to see her smile back at me toothily, untroubled and innocent as only a child could be.

I felt the curse inside of me, seeping inexorably into my organs. Killing me.

I could have left Voldemort there, or side-alonged the two of us to St. Mungo's and hoped someone there knew a way to stop this curse from taking me. There was always a possibility, wasn't there?

No. I knew that this curse was terminal. I'd encountered this precise curse, in fact, when I destroyed the Gaunt Family ring. latin for prepared death It would end my life. The medi- witches at St. Mungo's might have been able to delay my death by seconds, perhaps a minute if I was incredibly lucky.

Not once in my life had I ever been accused of being incredibly lucky. I wouldn't have needed to brew nearly a gallon of a bloody potion if I had been.

And I wouldn't allow anyone to intrude on this moment. It was solemn, sacrosanct. I would avenge Lily Potter today. I sat against the wall facing the Dark Lord, conserving my energy.

Voldemort, rolling on the ground below his throne, screamed hatefully as he clawed at his chest. It must've hurt immensely. I hoped I made the thorns big enough. "What magic is this? What have you done to me?"

I smiled at him, a dark twisting smirk. This man was my enemy, and I hated him. He would have murdered Lily. I wanted him to suffer endlessly for that, but I'd have to settle for killing him. "I was told by Albus Dumbledore that your one weakness was that you could not love. So I created a spell to clearly illustrate what you're missing. I've long considered love to be a noose of brambles, cinching ever more tightly around my heart. The noose, in your case, is transfigured from your small intestines. But I feel that this is still an inadequate description of love. The emotional aspect is, in my estimation, far more painful than this crude spell can express physically."

"Here, let me show you some carefully selected examples. _Legilimens!_"

His screams subsided half an hour later, when the noose had finally squeezed his heart until it burst. I'd have hoped it would take longer, really. Explain what happens when a heart ruptures, medically.

I wished it could've lasted a bit longer. Voldemort felt it for perhaps a half- hour... but I'd felt that noose for a decade. He hadn't even gotten the full measure of it, since he'd never had to wake up feeling it cinched just as tightly as it was the night before.

At long last, I dropped my wand. I'd shown him every single memory that had cut into me the most, every single example of how terrible love truly was. Amazingly, I felt sadness when his screams ceased. For a brief moment, I had shared the pain that had been locked tightly inside of me for so long. It had been liberating.

I felt better than I had in a long while. Years, probably.

Strange, that killing a Dark Lord would bring such release...

I still didn't want to go to St. Mungo's. I didn't want anyone to see me like this, I didn't want to leave this place.

I just wanted to sit here against this wall, alone in the cold. I just wanted to take stock of my life and prepare for the best end I'd been hoping for; a good death. A death that was worth something.

I'd done everything in my power to ensure Lily Potter's survival, and that was worth _everything_. I would die ten thousand times before I allowed her to leave this world before me.

I didn't want to see her again, strangely. I thought I would, but not like this, not so close to death.

No. If I was to die today, then I would rather die alone in this silent, elegant manor, next to the cooling corpse of a former Dark Lord.

I hadn't wanted it to end here, not like this. Not with so much left undone. I was still so unsatisfied with life. I wanted so much more than I'd ever been given... As I mourned for everything I'd lost, and everything I'd never have, I felt hot tears trickle down my cold face. I leaned my head back against the wall and let out a wet chuckle.

So many regrets to carry to the grave.

So much I never did in this life. . .so little I left behind.

Was there anyone out there who would remember me? Would my name just become something common and mundane, perhaps a footnote in a history book, or would anyone out there remember who I truly was?

If more than a decade of living for Lily Evans wasn't enough to make her remember me... would dying for her be enough to keep her from forgetting?

I was not a good-natured person; that much, at least, I had always known. I was not nice, I was not fair, I was not caring or sympathetic. I was not warm- hearted.

I could've been, with Lily, but that part of me had burned to ashes the day she fell in love with James Potter.

Instead I was cold, and I was cruel. I had distanced myself from the rest of society because I knew I had no place in a warm and affectionate environment.

I wanted everyone to forget all my faults, all my flaws. I wanted them to forget about what a mean bastard Severus Snape had been. If they could forget my flaws, then perhaps the part that remained would be remembered fondly.

Perhaps the shabby little shard that remained of my soul would be worthy of emulation, after all.

I had loved; that had to count for something. I had felt such deep and powerful emotions that even now, as I fought for each breath, I thought only of her. And all those emotions, all that pain. . .That was what I wished for the world to remember.

If the Wizarding World forgot everything else about me, forgot that I had killed Voldemort, forgot that I had attended Hogwarts or lived at Spinner's End, I wanted them to remember my pain.

I wanted them to remember that Severus Snape had loved Lily Evans, and still loved Lily Potter with every fiber of his being. If they could just remember that much, then I would be satisfied.

I loved Lily relentlessly, eternally. I would love her after the sun had collapsed in on itself, after humanity had vanished from the universe. My dust would be tethered irrevocably to hers after even our souls had decayed.

That love was the only legacy I wanted to leave. It was the very best of me, the only thing in the entirety of my worthless life that I'd ever truly been proud of. It had been the only heroic part of me.

It had been magnificently painful. I had every right to be proud of such a beautiful trial.

I could only hope that someday. . .somewhere far away from here. . .I'd see anew those tender, innocent eyes that I loved so much.

I gasped as the curse touched my heart and its dark fingers burrowed greedily inside. It was almost painless, and I felt profoundly grateful that it hadn't been a more exotic and grotesque curse. I would still look whole afterward, at least.

Whoever had said that dying was hard, they obviously hadn't ever died before. I just had to sit here and let it happen. This wasn't hard at all. . .It was so much easier than watching Lily love someone else. . . .

Then those dark fingers squeezed, and panic surged through me for one brief moment. I gasped and shuddered jerkily at the incredibly painful shock.

Then certainty washed over me, calming my mind.

My heartbeat faltered, and then everything grew still and silent.

My lungs relaxed, releasing the last of my oxygen.

My vision swam as the tears spilled over, blurring the world around me once more.

The darkness finally enveloped me.

_Don't worry, okay? I won't let you go it alone, Lily-I'll always be right by your side. I'll protect you, no matter what._

_You promise, Sev?_

I saw Lily Evans, wide-eyed and vulnerable—her trembling, eleven-year-old hand reaching out for mine.

Reaching for her hero.

I felt tall enough to wrestle a dragon as I proudly puffed out my thin, bony chest.

We shook pinkies on it.

_It's a promise!_

Peace, at last….

In the small, lonely cottage on the hill at (wherever the cottage is), in an old, dusty mason jar, a small blossom of bluebell flames finally flickered out.


End file.
